Wake the Black Wolf
by durararaaa
Summary: Having a deranged dark wizard after you is not too great. Having something you cannot quite explain after you in a strange world where the kindest fate is to find yourself on the wrong end of a sword makes that first thing seem like child's play. Geralt/Yennefer, Harry/? Rated M. Because there's no other way to write a Witcher story.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP or the Witcher. Rights go to the respective publishers/authors etc.**

 ***Takes place in the timeline of the Witcher novels. I.e- Before the first game. Just a sidenote for the people who've only played the games that may be confused.***

* * *

 **Prologue**

Harry seriously hated himself.

How did he find himself in situations like this? Ever since he'd turned eleven his life had just become a series of disturbing and dangerous encounters with things that progressively got worse up the scale.

Quirrel in the first year had been a pushover really…all he'd really done was touch the fool. Then the basilisk, the dementors, the fucking dragon, Voldemort, dementors, Death Eaters, Voldemort again…well…

And now here he was, being attacked by…he had no idea what that thing was but yeah, here he was fighting for his life after having just escaped with it just moments ago.

The terrifying sound the thing made him realize just how screwed he was as he slowly backed up, sweat dripping down his face as he stared at it. The dam thing _screamed_ again…the force of it shaking the walls. The disproportionately large head surrounded by curly red hair, glowing eyes…it suddenly opened its jaw revealing rows of pointed teeth before snapping it shut.

He'd never seen anything like it…his spells were utterly useless. Not that he could even think of casting any now, he'd lost his wand somewhere in the darkness behind him.

The walls around him made him think he was in some kind of crypt, there was a coffin somewhere in the corner that he'd noticed, and probably where this thing crawled out of. But by god this was no vampire…this was something much, _much_ worse.

All of the sudden it leapt, slashing at him with its claws. He had nowhere to run anymore so he was thrown backwards with the thing on him, ripping his chest apart with its claws. It even clamped its jaws down on his throat although thanks to a quick jerk, ended up taking just a small bite.

Pain clouded his vision as a yell tore through his lips. This was not how he wanted to die, mauled to death by some animal. With strength he didn't know he had he threw the thing off him with a roar before scrambling to his feet.

The thing growled, starting to circle around him. He backed away as best he could but out the corner of his eye he could see he was approaching a corner.

By chance he caught sight of a hint of silver as a few rays of moonlight lightened up the crypt. A sword! And it was just there behind him.

Keeping a watchful eye on the creature he backed up before picking up the weapon. It was heavy…far heavier than he'd expected in fact. _Great…I can't even lift this thing to save my life._

There was one thing though that he couldn't help noticing. The creature seemed much more wary of him now despite his weak stance of holding the sword with its tip on the floor. He moved forward, just a bit and his suspicions were confirmed when it backtracked.

The thing growled again before circling again, this time to his right. That's when he realized it was moving to the direction of the hand he was bleeding from.

 _Clever girl…_ he mused silently as he tried to lift the sword off the ground. It took tremendous effort but he managed to, the blood loss certainly not helping as it was making his head spin. This was not the smartest thing he'd done as he could swear he saw a hideous grin on the thing's face as it started slinking towards him.

With another frenzied scream it suddenly bounded at him, its claw outstretched just as he raised the sword as well, a yell escaping him as he swung with all his might. He succeeded in cutting its torso but the claw's aim was far more accurate and deadly. He could only stand, unable to register what had happened before looking down to see the blood rapidly escaping his body, his stomach ripped open.

The sword fell to the floor with a clang as he slumped down as well, blood pooling in his mouth as he stared at it, hatred in his eyes. For some reason the thing wasn't coming to finish him, in fact it was acting like it was afraid of him with the defensive stance it had again.

"Dammit!" He yelled, furious at his own helplessness. The thing shook its head like a wounded animal before growling again, not at all pleased with the sound its prey was making. It leapt towards him again but this time something primal awakened in him.

His arm came up in a feeble attempt to hold it off but a blinding white light escaped him making the thing howl as if in pain.

At least he hoped it was in pain. He was well and truly spent as his arm flopped down as well, all the fight leaving him.

The fucking thing was alive and kicking. Hurt, but alive. He'd given it his all, he'd exhausted himself magically and now he was trying to hold the contents of his stomach from spilling out while lying here in a puddle of his own blood. A grim smirk tugged at his lips as he stared at the thing that was slowly approaching him.

But then there was the unmistakable cling of metal against stone. He could barely see the silver blur in which the sword dragged itself on the floor, the tip's contact with the stone floor causing sparks to fly before it connected with the thing's head, drawing blood.

He couldn't keep himself fully conscious and more times than not he wasn't sure if he was dreaming. The newcomer was keeping the thing at bay and judging by the howling, wasn't doing that badly against it.

The last thing he remembered was eerie silence. He couldn't tell how long it'd been…half the times the pain was distracting, the other he was wondering when the thing would come for him. The sounds of fighting had long since stopped but he could still hear the occasional scream that would haunt him forever time and again.

Much too tired now.

Perhaps he was dreaming but he could've sworn he heard a voice ask "You're still alive?" in mild surprise before he slipped into the blissful emptiness.

* * *

"-sure about this?"

"Nenneke would've wanted me to."

"I know but you barely have any idea who the boy is!"

Harry felt worse than he'd ever been in his life…he was delirious, thirsty, there was a stabbing pain at his midsection and he was being rocked all over the place. He couldn't even see, his glasses were gone. Everything was just so hazy.

"He's harmless."

"All the same, he was found in the crypt with that thing. I say you should've left him to die." A low rumble of laughter followed these words.

"He already died the moment he took on a striga armed with nothing but a wooden stick. Peace Dandelion, you have nothing to fear from him."

* * *

"Come on…drink." This time it was a much more welcome and comforting voice. The hand that helped him up was gentle.

He allowed the cool liquid to run down his throat, a tremendous relief flooding through him as it did as he felt the soreness of his throat fade away.

"Can you see me?" The voice decidedly belonged to a she. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the blurred shapes before him. He could just make out the person helping him, dressed in white and her pleasant lavender scent but apart from that he could make neither head nor tail. "Oh…dear, you're blind?"

"Can't be…" The low rumble of a voice he heard before cut in. "He didn't move like a blind man."

"I'm…not blind." His voice came out equally low. It pained him to speak. "My glasses…"

"Glasses?" The woman asked, puzzlement coloring her voice.

"My…" He looked around, barely able to make out the shapes around him. His eyesight was truly horrible without them. "My glasses, I-I had them before I…"

"I think he means these…" He reached out hopefully and heaved a sigh of relief when he felt the familiar shape in his hands. Pushing them onto his face his vision sharpened immediately, although his right eye wasn't providing as much due to the cracks. "Haven't seen too many people around with those."

The speaker was the same nasally voice from before and it belonged to a rather feeble looking man. He was a little reminded of Lockhart to be honest, minus the blonde hair everything else was there down to the winning smile…although thankfully the man in front of him didn't look as stupid.

His gaze shifted to the other two occupants in the room. The woman as he'd guessed who helped him smiled faintly when their eyes met. She was dressed in garb he'd never seen anywhere except in books before but recognized as the traditional robes usually worn by a priestess of some kind.

The other man in the room who was leaning against the wall and watching him intently was something else entirely.

White hair pulled back in a ponytail although judging by his face he looked to be somewhere in his late 30's or early 40's. Unlike the man who looked like a poet out of a Shakespearian novel, this man looked like a warrior.

The leather armor he seemed to be wearing combined with the knives strapped to his waist and legs were threatening enough, but what truly made him uneasy were those eyes…yellow eyes that could only be described as those that belonged on a cat or something akin to its nature stared back at him, narrowed menacingly as if daring him to make any sudden moves.

"Where am I?" He asked, directing his question to the woman as he tried to sit up, a hiss escaping his lips as he felt a searing pain on his stomach.

"Be still..." She said gently, putting her hand on his shoulder as she gently pushed him back down onto the mattress. "You're in the temple of Melitele. This is a holy place, no harm shall come to you."

"Melitele?" He repeated slowly. That didn't sound like any religious figure he'd heard about. "I- _Where_ am I?" He asked again, a note of panic entering his voice. As if it wasn't bad enough being attacked by some creature and mortally wounding himself, something was telling him he was far, far away from Hogwarts.

"You're in Ellander stranger." The white haired man spoke finally, still eyeing him critically.

"El-Ellander?" He stumbled over the pronunciation, a growing sense of foreboding in him as he tried to get up again only to have the priestess stopping him.

"The Kingdom of Temeria, if you wish for specifics." The other man said slowly. "And I would advise you to stop moving about, the good woman spent the night closing that cut, do not undo her work."

"No you don't understand, I need to know where we are!" He snapped, although he heeded the warning and stopped moving about. "Am I even in England?" He was met with pure silence at this. Adding to his fear he could see _no_ indication in their faces that they had a clue of the country he was talking about.

"Is that where you hail from?" The priestess asked gently.

"I…yes…I…" He trailed off, a sudden and very unwelcome thought occurring to him. The way these people were speaking...it couldn't be…

God he wished his head would stop spinning.

"I've never heard of a place called that…" The other man said while the white haired one watched. "I think you should lay down, get a bit more rest. The Striga's venom must be making you delirious."

"But…I need to get back." He whispered. "I need…go home.." His breathing was getting ragged and he could feel his vision going blurry again.

Not home…sleep. That was what he really wanted.

Sleep.

* * *

"The boy's a source eh?"

"I saw it with my own eyes." Geralt answered shortly. "It was magic…pure magic that stopped the Striga from killing him."

"If that's so he is dangerous Geralt…" He glanced up at the worried woman. "Unlike _her_ you have no idea where he's from or what he was doing."

"Are you saying you don't want him here? Nenneke, tell me what it is that troubles you. I will get rid of him if that is your wish…"

She didn't answer right away, choosing instead to watch him in silence like him. The boy had been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past few days and no one had come looking for him. No soldiers had come up demanding a prisoner back…no Kings or Queens had come up demanding their heir back…There had been no one whatsoever.

The townspeople of Wyzim were aware of the boy…King Foltest and his guards had no idea who the boy was or what he'd been doing in the crypt of the princess or where he'd come from for that matter but they _are_ aware of him. So to think someone like him would remain unspoken for was far from normal.

"We do not turn away those in need." She said firmly. "No. The boy himself is not dangerous, even if he has unsavory intentions he's in no position to cause any harm to us. What I'm worried about is what might follow him here." She looked at him. "People are talking Geralt. News will travel to the Count and he will surely send men here looking for him. And it is not always people who get involved if there's a source as a prize for the taking."

"I was planning on taking him to Kaer Morhen." He said quietly.

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Can't say I'm too surprised. Why?"

"He's still alive." He offered nonchalantly. Her eyes widened at that.

"The trial of the herbs?" She asked incredulously. "You wish to subject him to that with the condition he's in?"

"He's already begun it." He said, gesturing towards him. The raven haired boy was shivering, sweating and paler than the snow, yet there was still life in him. Usually when one is marked by a Striga they do not survive for more than a few hours…let alone a full day and then some. "Unless we give him the trial, force his body to adapt to the poison spreading across his veins he will die."

"You want to save him." She murmured, her lips pursing into a frown. "Use the trial as a _cure_ …unorthodox but…" She sighed. "There is still something that you are not telling me." It was a statement. Not a question.

He took his time before answering; "Yes." Her silence told him she was still waiting for a better answer. With a soft sigh he ploughed on. "I had a dream recently."

"When?"

"The last time I was here."

"Is it the one you did not want Iola to see?" His nod seemed to satisfy her. "What was it?"

"I saw him…him, Ciri and Yennefer." He murmured softly, his only response a sharp intake of breath. "And something else…something terrible. I can only remember the feeling…" He shook his head. "The boy is unmistakable…that scar on his forehead and the color of his eyes, I've never seen anything like that on anyone else. I recognized him the moment I found him in that crypt."

"I see…" Nenneke trailed off. "Do you think Ciri would know who he is? Or Yennefer?"

"Yennefer...I do not know." He muttered with a shrug. "But that's what I intend to find out." She nodded before getting up.

"I can procure you a carriage." She offered. "If you are to get him to Kaer Morhen alive you must leave before nightfall." He bowed his head, silently conveying his gratitude as he too got up. "Dandelion may stay here during your absence if that is his wish."

"I cannot thank you enough Nenneke." He murmured with a smile. She nodded, returning his smile before it quickly disappeared as she turned her attention to the boy who was now moaning something incomprehensible as he thrashed about in a fevered sleep.

Hurried footsteps announced the arrival of a newcomer, his eyes widening when he recognized the coppery hair that swayed gently about her face.

"Iola…" He breathed. The mute priestess smiled at him before moving towards the boy, a bowl of warm water and a piece of cloth in her arms which she set on the floor beside him before proceeding to tend to the boy.

He was surprised, she'd only ever displayed such kindness to him, someone outside of the temple. She usually avoided anyone who wasn't a priestess.

A few moments passed before Nenneke silently tapped his shoulder, beckoning him with her as they quietly left the room.

"I think I should tell you…Iola tried looking into his future." She said softly as they walked down the long corridor.

"And?" He was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Whatever she saw frightened her…but she seems to trust him."

* * *

Harry woke to the sound of a crackling fire, his eyes opening slowly to a darkened night sky above him.

It took him a while to get used to a rather foreign feeling. He couldn't quite feel his arms or legs, there was a certain numbness that he'd never felt before but on the plus side the scorching pain he remembered from earlier was gone.

Memory of the pain triggered everything he'd remembered from before. It felt like years since he'd last seen Hogwarts. Hell, he even missed his room in privet Drive.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny…

Where was he now? Was he dead as well? He could only remember flashes…that ghastly creature from before…

What of that temple? Was he still there? As far as he could tell he was out in the open somewhere, lying on a pile of hay.

He tried to push himself up but his body was unresponsive. He couldn't even move his arms. His glasses were gone as well…as far as he could tell it was dark and he could see the orange glow which he assumed was a fire out the corner of his eye.

A sudden inhuman cry tore through the night, startling him as an involuntary gasp escaped him.

It sounded close, far too close for comfort and he didn't have his wand and he was essentially blind. Add the fact that he wasn't quite in control of his body either.

Something about his feeble attempts at movement must've alerted someone as he heard heavy footsteps approaching. He squinted but he couldn't quite see the figure approaching and could do nothing but watch helplessly as it came to a halt near him. He only saw a blurry shape of a face with ashen hair which knelt closer before his vision suddenly sharpened, allowing him to see the white haired man from before.

Only this time those eyes were far more startling than before. He'd been right initially when he thought those golden eyes looked like those of a cat's, they even seemed to glow slightly in the dark. The face that was staring at him was decidedly rugged, mature and had a long, vicious scar both above and below his left eye.

"Creatures of all manner rule the nights in these parts stranger, but you are safe here." The man said quietly. "Try not to move around much. I've given you a potion that numbs the body and slows the flow of blood, but it's still just a matter of time until the venom would reach your heart so I wouldn't aggravate it."

He blinked before nodding slowly. Something about the man's voice put him to ease.

"Thank you." He whispered. "For saving me from the monster."

"It is of no consequence." The man replied. "However what I'm about to tell you is important so I want you to listen." He bowed his head slightly. "The creature that attacked you was a Striga. You did well staying alive but she managed to infect you with her toxins during the fight."

"You should be dead by now." The man said bluntly. "The venom hasn't reached your heart yet…but at best you'd survive for another day."

"Oh…okay." He muttered, coughing as he did. His throat felt so dry but he didn't know if he could even force down water.

The man suddenly smirked. "First person I met to take that so calmly."

He laughed, something he made a note of never doing again as it was far more painful than even a Cruciatus curse right now. "Sometimes it's just easier to accept things than challenge them.".

"But there may be something we could do." The man said slowly. "There are a few potions and herbs at our disposal that could force you to become resistant to a variety of poisons, one of which is the venom that permeates your body at this very moment."

"But?" Of course there would be a catch. He was willing to bet whatever number of hours he had left.

"But." The man confirmed. "It will be painful and there is a high chance of it killing you if your body succumbs to the mixture. Given your condition right now the likelihood of your survival is low. Extremely low in fact."

He laughed again despite himself. Of course he'd get a choice like this. "Don't see much choice. What happens if I make it through?"

"You will have to take the trial until the end…the trial of herbs as we call it. The mixture we give you will transform you inside and out."

"Transform?" He echoed while the man offered him a brief nod. "What happens at the end?"

"You will live. But at a cost to your humanity." The man sighed. "I had taken the trial before as well…it was part of my training…training as a witcher." Seeing his look of confusion he added; "A hunter by trade."

"Oh…"

"I can see from your confusion that you really are not from around these parts." The man smiled faintly. "The transformations…the trial of herbs…it changes us, brings us closer to beasthood. On the one hand you will die as a result of the trial or the venom in a matter of hours. On the other the life you knew will be gone when you emerge from the trial."

"I see…" He said quietly. The choices he had were bleak. Die or accept to go through some kind of a ritual. To make matters worse he was far, far from what he called home. "Who are you?" He asked after a while making a look of surprise to flit across the man's face.

"I am Geralt. Geralt of Rivia." The newly identified Geralt replied with a slight bow of his head. "And may I ask who you are stranger?"

"Harry Potter."

"An unusual name." Geralt murmured. "The manner you speak is different as well…I have travelled far but I have never heard such speech before. You say you are from 'England'?"

"Yes. I-I don't suppose you have heard of it?"

"Can't say I have." Geralt eyed him critically. "Harry Potter…you have not given me an answer. The longer we spend, the longer you play with your chances."

"Why are you helping me Geralt?" He asked in response, causing the ashen haired man to smirk slightly.

"You are not a very trusting person I see."

"Unfortunately not." He said, his voice noticeably weaker. "And experience has taught me that nothing is ever free."

Geralt's smile widened although it looked a bit too predatory for his tastes.

"Indeed." The witcher agreed. "By saving your life you're now indebted to me…I'm sure you understand what that entails."

He remained silent, life debts as it seemed, was something universal. Plus there was no way he could dispute this…the man had already saved his life. Twice in fact.

"What do you want from me?"

Geralt seemed to ponder the question for a few moments. "The trial is so called because it is just that...a test." He added to Harry's questioning look. "It is the quintessential test in proving who is a witcher and who is not."

"And what happens to those who aren't?" Harry asked, although he had a suspicion to what the answer would be.

"They die." Geralt said simply, confirming his suspicions. "The trial is perhaps the most closely guarded secret of our order. If you are strong enough to survive it, you are strong enough to fight the evil that plagues these lands. If not, you perish."

"So…" He narrowed his eyes. "You want me to what? Be one of you? A hunter?"

"If you survive." Geralt said with a nod. "If you survive then you will take up the mantle of a witcher as payment for the trial."

He thought about asking 'and if I refuse?' but almost immediately shot himself down. It was pointless. This man would just leave him here in the wilderness to die.

So the choice was simple. Try to live or die.

He didn't have many other options. This place…these lands…they felt so strange to him. He knew he'd done something stupid the moment he went to investigate the light at the end of Little Whinging instead of waiting patiently for the headmaster to come get him from the Dursleys. Just never thought he'd end up with a bad case of selective amnesia giving him a blank period of then and how he winded up in a bloody crypt with an abomination.

To hell with it…he would take the chances he can get. The sooner he's back on his feet, the sooner he'd get back home.

It was with these thoughts he uttered a single word that would change the course of the future and set him on a path far more dangerous than anything his life back 'home' could've thrown at him.

But at least it was his choice this time.

* * *

 **AN: I did have an itch to write a witcher crossover that needed scratching so yeah.**

 **Do have a loose plan for this story. Right now I'm jacked up on the witcher hype and I'm certain it will not disappoint me…even if I still haven't played the wild hunt yet as I'm still being a tourist (somewhere in Europe now) but it's on top of my to-do list when I get back home. However I loved the previous games and novels to death so…I will love this game by default no matter what.**

 **Firstly, I plan on doing this story similar to the way** **Andrzej Sapkowski did in his books after proper introductions. Those who've read 'em might know…but it'll become clear when I continue on with this. It would be a tad different from my usual stories either way.**

 **Secondly this will be a departure from the usual tone of my stories. Bar the Assassin's Creed crossover I have sitting somewhere in a hiatus state. (Sidenote - AC Unity's bugs and shit around launch coupled with the lackluster gameplay and kinda stupid storyline drained me of my affinity for the series as a whole and lead me away from it…but I still will pick it up sometime when it strikes my fancy.)**

 **Back to what I was saying, the tone will be similar to what the Witcher is and I will try to stay true to the source material. The Witcher is an adult, relatively dark fantasy. While this doesn't mean I'll deal with cringy subject matter (stuff like rape and others along the line have no place in my writing), expect other stuff.**

 **Of course, romance plays a part as well. Just won't be too important (or would it?). Pairings undecided for now but it will slowly make itself clear.**

 **I expect I'll write this story on and off while keeping 'His Angel' the priority.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

* * *

"Can't believe you brought in a second stray Geralt…this is unusual…even for you." An gruff voice muttered from somewhere behind him.

Turning, Geralt smirked grimly at the old man leaning casually against the wall with his arms folded, watching the spectacle like him.

A spectacle might not be the right word but there really was no other word for it. What word was there really? To describe watching another's pain?

The boy was convulsing violently. There were black veins all over his naked body which was covered in nothing more than a flimsy blanket he'd found somewhere in the old quarters.

The boy had screamed the whole night. In fact, he'd still be screaming if he was physically capable of it. But he was putting up a far stronger front than Geralt had initially thought he would. The boy had a threshold for pain unlike many his age. Most would've been begging for death or succumbed to it by now.

"The boy's got a strong will." Geralt muttered, moving his gaze back to the sweating, shuddering form of the subject in question.

"That he has. But you still refuse to answer why you brought this one in."

"He has the aptitude for it. Don't we need more of our kind?" He asked without moving his gaze. "You used to be ecstatic whenever new recruits were brought in Vesemir."

"Pox on it Geralt!" The newly identified Vesemir growled. "The world doesn't _want_ more of us. It made that extremely clear."

Geralt said nothing. The attack was still fresh on his mind as well. 23 Witchers…they had 23 Witchers and 40 students before the attack on their fortress. Out of all only Vesemir, himself, and 2 other Witchers had been spared along with one student.

The people feared them irrationally. They were nothing more than monsters for hire to dispatch of monsters. There would be no justice for them.

"On top of that you insisted on putting him, someone who is not even a student of our ways through the trial. What happens if he survives and makes his own choices? We are not murderers Geralt…we do not kill indiscriminately. Our secrets in the hands of another…you-"

"Peace. I will see to it that it doesn't happen." He said shortly, allowing a bit of steel to enter his voice.

Vesemir looked unconvinced but fell silent. Soon the only sounds heard were that of the crackling fire and the moans of the boy.

He couldn't blame him. The attack had left Vesemir a bitter shadow of his former self, unwilling to trust anyone who wasn't part of his order. The man had been like a father to the witchers and the students and he knew, despite the exterior he put…he knew that Vesemir cared about each and every one of them. To lose them all in a single night would turn any man cold.

"Geralt…" Vesemir's voice shook him from his thoughts. "Help me understand. I know you, you wouldn't wish the fate we share on anyone else. I never questioned your decision with Ciri. But him? I admit the boy does have the markings of a good witcher…I can sense his power. But there is something else that just doesn't feel right about him."

"You as well then?" He mused out loud, thinking back to his conversation with Nenneke. "You say you understood Ciri. Well…he's the same."

" _Another_ one?" He almost laughed, Vesemir's voice on a high note was not one he'd ever heard before.

"It appears so. I watched him fight the striga for a while before I intervened…he even seems to be aware of it, relying on his magical ability at one point as well."

"Do you have any idea where he's from?" Vesemir asked, walking up to stand beside him as they watched the boy. He'd finally stopped convulsing and the veins were beginning to recede into his body.

"No." Geralt answered shortly.

"Heh…you know how to pick them…I'll give you that boy." The older witcher chuckled. "Two sources, this one actually seems to be in a good position to survive the trial. And he seems to take after you in some aspects."

"What?" He asked, confused. In answer Vesemir walked up to the boy before crouching low by his head, a gloved hand picked at a few strands of the boy's hair before lifting it up.

There, some of the roots of his hair had begun being stripped off of its color.

* * *

Geralt couldn't remember exactly when he'd dozed off. All he could remember was that he'd simply closed his eyes for a little bit, and was now being shaken by the shoulder and that it was suddenly day-time judging by the sunlight streaming into the room.

"'Morning to you as well." A lilting voice said. He smiled gently at the redhead, nodding at her in turn.

"Triss…when did you get here?" He asked, getting to his feet as she knelt down next to the boy, gazing down at him.

"Not too long ago." She replied. "I missed you at Ellander by a day…Nenneke told me what happened."

"Ah…" He cracked his neck before mimicking her actions, feeling the boy's hand for a pulse. "Well well…" He murmured after a while, impressed. "He pulled through."

"I can't tell if you're happy or disappointed." Triss said with a shake of her head as she delicately turned the boy's face, examining him closely. "What is his name again?"

"Harry Potter." She giggled softly.

"Well…that's something he will have to lose. That name is a bit too foreign even for my tastes."

"Aye…we'll see." He muttered. "How's Ciri?"

"She's safe. You know who she's with Geralt…" His eyebrow twitched at that. "And the girl is already more powerful than half the mages in the province."

"Good to hear." He replied, a tad irritably although it wasn't gone unnoticed by her.

"She does refuse it though…the position of a sorceress at the Lodge." She said with a knowing smile. "Says she's first and foremost a witcher."

"Yennefer didn't like that?" He asked, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips.

"Oh she loved it." The sarcasm was painfully evident in her voice making him chuckle briefly despite himself.

He allowed himself a few moments of peace before bringing his attention back to the boy who was still lying motionless on the floor. Triss had taken to brushing away some of the hair away from his eyes.

"I don't think it is a coincidence you're here." He commented, watching her closely. "I hope you don't expect me to believe that you just happened to wander into the temple." She didn't react to his statement at first, seemingly ignoring him for a few moments.

"It was Ciri." She said finally. "She wanted to come here. Said she needed to but couldn't explain why. Just keeps saying she _needs_ to be here."

"I see." He sighed. "Could you bring her here?"

"I will. Thought it best if I came ahead first." She usually wasn't the type to go sticking her head out for people, but he knew she held some degree of protectiveness over her.

"You have my thanks for that." He murmured, bowing his head slightly to which she smiled prettily. "And it _is_ good that you're here anyway. I feel we will need your services."

"Mine?" She asked in puzzlement. "Aren't Vesemir and the others here? I didn't see-"

"Oh they're here…I need you for him." He nodded towards the boy. "I have a feeling both you and Yennefer will be interested him."

* * *

Harry couldn't quite explain what he felt when his eyes snapped open. The pain he'd gotten quite well accustomed to for the longest time had all but gone and it was proving to be somewhat troubling for him.

Sound. It felt like he was hearing things for the first time. He could hear footsteps and the clink of metal but he was quite sure it was coming from further away.

His eyes felt strange as well. Was one supposed to feel their pupils? Or even be aware of anything about their own eyes apart from sight?

That was another thing, where were his glasses? They were certainly not on his face but he was seeing better than he could've remembered.

He slowly pushed himself upright, sitting up as he took in the room he was in. He was lying on a mat and there were the remnants of a fire beside him but he was definitely inside some kind of a dungeon judging by the stone walls.

For a moment he thought he was back in the crypt from his nightmares with that creature before dismissing the thought. No, he'd already gotten out from that place hadn't he.

That reminded him, his memories from when he was last conscious. He'd accepted that man…Geralt's…proposal hadn't he? In fact, he could remember himself being brought to this place and being fed something that had tasted far fouler than anything he'd remembered.

After that all he could remember was a feeling as if he was being burned alive.

Shuddering at the thought and praying the pain was over he slowly got to his feet. He couldn't put a finger on it, but everything just felt strange. He wasn't drowsy or sluggish despite this being the first time on his feet. In fact, he felt far better than he'd ever remembered. Every single sound he was making he was aware of. He could even hear voices echoing through the stone walls.

It was only when he was fully upright and the cloth he'd been covered in had fallen off did he realize that he was completely naked.

Naked and…was that muscle? He gazed down at himself, forgetting his nudity. He couldn't ever remember being anything other than skinny.

A mirror! There was one tucked away in a corner. Quickly walking towards it he pulled it up, surprising himself when it moved without much trouble.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw his face.

Those were _not_ his eyes staring menacingly back at him. The pupils were no longer round, they were extremely narrow and slitted…while the familiar green was still there around them it looked far more disturbing than anything.

Another thing to note was the hair on his face. It was still the same untidy mop, but at the side there was a section of his hair that was white. A stark contrast to the rest. He ran a shaking hand through it, as if trying to make sure this was his own.

His eyes wandered below his face. He had been right when he thought he saw muscle. He wasn't buff, far from it. He was still quite skinny. But there was a definition on his arms, chest and legs that he'd never seen before.

"You done?" A decidedly feminine voice called from behind suddenly, making him jolt backwards.

A woman was standing at the doorway, leaning against the side with her arms folded, a smirk playing on her lips.

The blood rushed to his face as her smile widened. This woman was _gorgeous_. Red hair…far darker than the Weasley red tied back in a bun. Blue eyes boring into his own with a hint of mischief behind them. Her weird assortment of clothing complete with boots clung to her in a way that did her figure justice.

He almost shuddered when he saw her wet her lips. Almost. "You could be worse…" She commented, her eyes trailing downward to which he immediately responded by hiding what her eyes were probing for with his hands which only seemed to amuse her further.

"Here." She suddenly threw a bundle at him from nowhere which he managed to snatch out the air far faster than he felt was even necessary, again surprising himself.

The bundle turned out to be clothing.

"When you're appropriately dressed, come up to the courtyard. I'll let Geralt know you're awake." With that she was gone, leaving him standing there feeling rather foolish.

It didn't take him too long to get dressed owing to the fact it was just a simple pair of trousers…well...plain breeches? And a rather large shirt.

His hand instinctively went to the back pocket when he ventured towards the doorway from where the woman had gone through leading to a new wave of panic as he realized one thing; he did not have his wand.

Great. Foreign lands, waking up with an unsettling appearance, unarmed…the list was just progressively getting worse and worse.

Nowhere to go but forward now.

* * *

"Had a good sleep?"

"Fuck you." He mumbled under his breath earning a gruff chuckle from one of the men present.

The speaker had been Geralt. The white haired man whose eyes he himself seemed to have inherited except for the color.

There was also a rather big, far older looking man standing beside him, presumably the one who'd laughed and lastly there was the redhead who he couldn't bring himself to look at.

"Look up boy." His head snapped up almost against his will. He couldn't help it, it was the older man who'd spoken and his voice carried a sense of authority about it that he was finding difficult to rebel against, especially given the fact that he was somewhere he had absolutely no knowledge or control about.

The man came closer before taking his face, quite literally, in his hand and turning it from side to side, as if inspecting some kind of merchandise.

"Wasn't expecting you to pull through but you did." The man remarked before nodding to himself. "Your eyes have mutated past the imperfections from before. The striga venom is now part of your bloodstream as well if I'm right…and the discoloring of your hair...heh…" He smirked back at Geralt as if enjoying some private joke. "At least this one escaped without sacrificing his whole head."

"What-" Harry began in bewilderment, the man was treating the imperfections as if they were normal!

"It's a result of different toxins reacting together in your bloodstream." The man cut him off, returning to manhandling him again. "The mutagens you were given found something that just didn't quite mix causing those unfortunate side effects…trust me, white hair isn't a trademark of ours. Geralt here was just unlucky and had some absolutely vile concoctions floating around his body at the time of the trial from god knows where. What was it again?" He asked, turning to Geralt.

"Wyvern blood." Geralt answered impassively making the man shake his head while the redhead seemed to be hiding a smirk.

"I ask you…wyvern blood…and _you_?" The man asked, directing his question at a bewildered Harry. "What did you have in you?"

"Oh…ehm…"

"Well?" The man obviously wanted an answer and Harry found himself hastening to find one.

"I-…I guess Basilisk venom?" He said hesitantly making the man sniff.

"Great. Another fool here. No wonder Geralt found you." This time the redhead was unable to control herself as she giggled. "Right, I am Vesemir and I will be putting you through your paces over the next few months. Usually witchers receive their training before they're subjected to the trial but since it's the other way around with you I expect progression unlike anything I've seen before."

Several times he tried to interrupt but the damned old man looked far too threatening for that to happen. Was he not getting a say in this?

"I want you out of Kaer Morhen by the time winter's over and I will see to it you're a full-fledged witcher…at least in theory by that time." All he could do was nod as if in a daze which seemingly satisfied him. "I'll leave him to you then." Vesemir muttered, turning to Geralt who nodded.

"Oh and 'Harry Potter' was it?" He suddenly asked, his gaze back at Harry who nodded again. "Get rid of it. The name. We're already outsiders enough as is, you don't need to flaunt the fact you're a newcomer in these lands _and_ a witcher on top. Pick something local…it will help you get contracts and save you a lot of headaches in the future."

Harry could only stare blankly after Vesemir who'd disappeared around a corridor before looking at Geralt in turn who shrugged before nodding his head towards a door that seemingly lead outside before walking off as well, the redhead following. Unsure of what else to do he followed in their wake.

His senses were almost immediately assaulted with the saltiness in the air that proved too much for him as he covered his mouth and nose with his hand. And unless he was imagining it, he could _hear_ the faint whistle of the wind flowing through blades of grass on the floor.

Since when had his senses been so refined?

"You will get used to it." Geralt's voice made him look up to find both him and redhead watching him.

"What…what have you done to me?" He asked, testing his voice out. It was scratchy from not being used in a while but even that had changed. It was deeper than he'd remembered, not too noticeable but enough to disconcert him.

"Your trial was successful in stopping the striga venom from killing you. After that you were administered the rest of the mutagens."

"Why." He asked with a hint of anger. If the original purpose had been fulfilled why give him more?

This seemed to amuse Geralt. "You accepted my proposal, if you lived you would only live to be a witcher. Those mutagens are the final steps in the trial."

"It has simply enhanced your senses." The redhead spoke up after being quiet the whole time. "Along with making you faster and stronger. You no longer need these…" She took out something from a pouch on her belt before handing it to him. His glasses. "…to see." She finished with a smile.

He stayed quiet, turning over his glasses in his hand. So this was what Geralt had meant when he talked about the cost to his humanity.

Sighing softly he looked back up at the two. "Do you have my wand?"

The redhead's reaction to his question was interesting. She gaped at him like he'd grown two heads while Geralt took something of his pocket before handing it to him, a sinking feeling in his chest when he took it.

Those pieces of wood were his wand alright…the thing was broken cleanly in half, hints of red sticking out one of the ends.

"Wait…you're a sorcerer?" The redhead asked blankly.

"Was." He said shortly, clenching the pieces of his wand in his hands along with the glasses.

"Introductions should be made I think." Geralt muttered. "Harry Potter, my friend Triss Merrigold from the Lodge of Sorceresses."

"You're a witch?" He asked, a bit of hope entering his voice as he glanced at her.

"That is one way of putting it." She said with a hint of distaste in her voice. "Although I'd prefer avoiding that word…it's got a negative association with people here."

"Oh…I'm sorry. Where I'm from that's what we call our people." He said awkwardly.

"'Our people' so you're aware of the fact you're a source?" She asked curiously.

"A what?"

"Source? A person born with innate magical ability."

"Oh…well…I guess." He admitted. Last he checked he _was_ a wizard.

"Interesting…" She murmured, moving closer to him making his cheeks flush as her face got dangerously close to his. In his defense on top of being extremely pretty she had a rather intoxicating scent.

Neither she nor Geralt seemed to be aware of his discomfort though. She kept trying to peer into his eyes for some reason and he could tell that she was more than a little interested in the scar on his forehead judging by the way her hand came up to it, hovering over it.

"There aren't many of us in these lands…" She continued conversationally, pulling back to a respectable distance. "…and out of that number half are driven mad by magic. Not everyone learns to control it…How old are you?"

"Erm…16."

"Really?" Her eyes widened. "Do you have any degree of training to harness your magic?"

"I-yeah…I attend a school for wit-I mean sorcery." He finished lamely. She nodded, seemingly distracted although the way her eyes were still probing him made him feel like he was being x-rayed, similar to the feeling Dumbledore always used to give him.

"Some control….yes. You're still but a fledgling in magic."

"Err…" He was a bit offended. He was almost in his final year at Hogwarts and she was calling him a 'fledgling'? "I think I have more than a grasp of it…" His voice trailed into nothingness when he met her piercing gaze. This time he heard a cough from Geralt (who he'd honestly forgotten about at this point) although it was painfully obvious it was a disguised chuckle.

"What you've been doing isn't true sorcery." She said bluntly. "I can sense it in you but you haven't even begun to channel the energies _around_ you…you have next to no idea how to channel it without a wand do you?" He mutely shook his head.

"You will be learning the witcher's own brand of magic for the time being…once you've gained the knowledge from that you will see what I mean. It's strange…I can sense the same traits in you that we have but no trace of the magic we use." She said with a shake of her head. "Only you seem to have been aware of and been using magic in another way."

"Oh…well I-"

"It's no matter." She cut him off. "Once your witcher training has finished come see me. We will have a lot to do."

"Okay." He muttered making the redhead smile before turning to Geralt.

"Go easy on him."

"Sure." Harry couldn't stop the slight shiver run down his spine at the way Geralt had said that. It was _anything_ but honest. "You're going back to Ellander?"

"For now." She said with a nod. "Nenneke will be anxious to hear how he fared." She said with a nod towards Harry. "After that I'll begin my journey to Gors Velen. Ciri will be there…Yennefer's almost finished training her so I should be able to bring her back here with me from there."

"I am once again in your debt." Geralt murmured with a small smile as he hugged her briefly. "I trust Yennefer already knows what had happened?"

"Yes." She said, her smirk widening. "Your paths will cross again soon Geralt…I have a feeling." He just nodded but stayed quiet. Despite Harry not knowing much about him he couldn't help noticing the slight stiffening in Geralt's posture whenever the name 'Yennefer' came up.

"Harry Potter." He forced himself to look at Triss, cursing his teenage hormones as he did. "Try not to get yourself killed before we meet again. It'd be a pity." She finished with a mischievous look in her eyes as she bent towards him, kissing his cheek.

"Okay." He managed to stutter out, caught completely off balance by what she'd done. "And c-could you thank the priestesses at the temple for looking after me? I didn't get a chance to." He said in a rush before his courage failed him." She looked mildly surprised before nodding.

"I will. And before I forget…" She took something strapped to her hip; a long, thin wooden-wait…a wand?! "I have no use for this…it is what I used a long time ago when I was learning-well…perhaps it will serve you somehow."

"Thank you." He said gratefully, accepting her gift. He was slightly disappointed at the lack of a sign of contact as he'd come to expect from wands. It felt cold and clammy in his hands except for a slight tingle but he was more than happy to have something familiar back in his hands.

"Farewell!" She took a step back before vanishing in a flash of blue leaving behind a shocked Harry and an unconcerned Geralt.

"Teleportation." Geralt muttered in a way of explanation.

"I see…" Despite his curiosity he had far more matters that he needed answers for, putting magic aside for the time being.

"If you have any questions I feel now is the time to ask them." Geralt said quietly as he turned to him. "From tomorrow you will begin being trained in our ways and I do not think you will be allowed much rest. Vesemir and I must teach you what is usually done in years by the first savaed."

Harry only picked out at one thing that Geralt had said which brought back a burning question he'd been meaning to ask. "Today…what is today's date?"

"Today? It is the 23rd day of Birke."

"Birke?" He asked blankly. "Birke as in the elven…?" Geralt looked puzzled but nodded, confirming his suspicions. The elven calendar…he remembered learning about that in his history of magic classes. The old way of counting seasons.

But then…wasn't the use of the elven calendar stopped with the introduction of the Gregorian one back in 1582?

With a discomforting chill on his back he asked his next question. "Where are we? I know this is Kaer Morhen but where in the _world_ are we?"

"The Kingdom of Kaedwen." Geralt answered shortly. "Part of the Northern Kingdoms."

Horror was beginning to dawn on him. He had an underlying suspicion growing in him with everything he'd seen but his mind refused point blank to accept such an outrageous conclusion.

"Kaedwen…" The word tasted foreign and yet he knew he'd heard it before. Back in history of magic…this was in his first year when he'd actually given a dam about the subject before Binns had ruined it for him. The Northern Kingdoms had been briefly touched upon to describe a bloody war that had taken place. He could recall one other name associated with all this.

"The…Nilfgaardian Empire…" Geralt's eyes narrowed at this. "Has it fallen?"

"Strange you should ask that." Geralt muttered, looking at him calculatingly. "The war against the Nilfgaardian Empire ended two eons ago with them conquering much of the Northern Kingdoms. We have a fragile peace between us…for now."

There was an emptiness growing in him as he listened to Geralt's words. The Nordic wars…but this was not possible…

He looked down numbly at the wand Triss had given him and at the broken pieces of his own.

He saw Geralt's arm move swiftly towards a knife even as he raised it. He felt rather than saw Geralt's eyes following his movements as he murmured _"Saeclum"._

For a few moments there was nothing but the rustling of leaves to be heard as the ghostly numerals became fully legible, telling him the exact age of the world…or in other words…

All strength had drained from him as he fell to his knees, staring at the number floating serenely in front of him.

 _1267_

* * *

 **AN: This is strange really…but for some reason I found myself writing more of this despite me running into some difficulties with this story.**

 **One difficulty is that I'm writing this from Harry's p.o.v. If I were writing Geralt's p.o.v (which I have and of course will in the future) it's far easier to clue readers in to who/what characters are or exactly what was happening in the witcher world since…well…it's essentially Geralt's familiar world. Harry on the other hand genuinely clueless so…I can't offer explanations to many things.**

 **Only the things that Harry himself can explain for now is just magic that he knows. And even that's woefully limited.**

 **The other is trying to make sense of the geography. Holy shit the ancient world is confusing. Kingdoms/provinces/districts…I spent hours trying to find where in the real world the witcher story is supposed to be based in. No, it's not old Poland. I checked. I have no idea where this whole story is supposed to be based in so fuck it, I'm making things up as I go. (Probably going to end up making the Northern Kingdoms the older version of Northern Europe or something).**

 **A reviewer brought up that 'Trial of herbs' should be 'Trial of grasses'. I neither agree nor disagree with this since there's no concrete info on which is which. I read the original comic pages from an old Polish magazine (or something) that had small side stories based on the witcher. One of which showed the 'Trial of** _ **herbs**_ **' (according to a fan translation) taking place. It just stuck with me since I read it.**

 **Pairings…you guys are already calling out what I have in mind. But this world I'm writing about is different. It will eventually settle down on something but for now, we'll see. I have a few ideas I want to try. And no, I don't do harems.**

 **What else..err…timelines! I have read 'Voice of Reason' and am just finishing 'Blood of the Elves'. I know there's a bunch I'm missing (don't understand Polish sadly and there aren't a lot of translations out there that I can find). I'm going to fill in blanks on my own so a die-hard witcher fan may get offended, apologies for that. I love and respect the series a lot but I'm not as dedicated as I would've liked to be.**

 **Plus since Harry Potter's entered the fray, obviously things will have to change ranging from some major to minor events that shapes the witcher verse.**

 **Lastly, I have to change Harry's name. 'Harry Potter' just doesn't fit for a witcher and Vesemir meant what he said when he'd have trouble using that kind of a name in their line of work. Believe me when I say there is a plausible explanation for it. (Not changing it to Harrison. I've developed an unhealthy desire to murder whoever writes stories starring 'Lord Harrison (insert X number of titles) Potter.)**

 **So now I'll ask you guys a favor for the first time. If you have any good old Slavic/Nordic names that fit the theme of the witcher world (and Harry), shoot me a suggestion. I may use it and credit you in the next chapter. I make no promises though…if I decide on one that I personally like myself I'll be using that.**

 **Chapters will stay this length of get longer/shorter depending on where I want to stop. It may not look it but this story is actually challenging to write since I have to make sense of everything in a way that satisfies** _ **both**_ **worlds.**

 **Character personalities are kind of difficult as well. Games do not convey a character well…and apart from Geralt everyone else in the witcher world seems a bit bland. Geralt is only safe since it's up to the player to decide how much of an arsehole he/she wants to be and the novels do him a little justice.**

 **Well…that's it for now. Hopefully by the time I write the next chapter of this story I'll have at least clocked in a few hours of the wild hunt.**

 _ **Saeclum –**_ **Variation of 'Tempus'. Latin for 'age/century/generation' etc.**

 _ **Savaed/Birke -**_ **Elven calendar stuff  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Before anyone reads this chapter, please read the following; (No, really, read it all. It concerns the plot and you will need the info if you want to read this story without having to suspend a lot of disbelief.)**

 **The previous chapter ended with Harry finding out he'd travelled back in time to 1269. I have made a mistake there. (It is now fixed though)**

 **The timelines have confused me quite a bit since** _ **The Witcher**_ **computer game and the novels have a few things they don't agree with. It's a bit too confusing for me to follow the game timeline for now especially since I pretty much have to make this story from scratch while respecting the witcher lore.**

 **Therefore I am making a few changes to the previous chapter. I figure the easiest way to stop myself going insane working around the timeline would be to simply follow the timeline I can find in the witcher wikia (which I** _ **hope**_ **follows the novels) to a T.**

 **The changes are not much. Except that Harry is in early 1267. Before a major event happens with certain characters. Keep in mind though that I will obviously not be following the EXACT storyline in witcher since its canon…and I'm not going to copy it, especially since I have a new character to play around the sandbox with.**

 **But of course, it will loosely follow the timeline from 1267 onwards. I only ask that the Witcher fans keep an open mind…as I've stated before I've only read the 'Voice of Reason' and 'Blood of the elves' and played the previous two games. Waiting on the bloody mail for the third. Plus…I have to change things around as well for aforementioned reasons.**

 **That's it. You may proceed.**

 **PS - THIS STORY TAKES PLACE BEFORE THE EVENTS OF THE FIRST WITCHER GAME.**

 **According to the timeline; Witcher 1 - 1270, Witcher 2 - 1271. Witcher 3 - 1272**

 **So no, there are no spoilers for any of the games.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2**

* * *

"Beer." The stranger rasped, his voice dry.

He didn't move one inch, carrying on wiping the empty tankard in his hand with his washcloth. He did not trust the man, he wore a hooded coat and the cultured accent…that accent.

A Rivian.

The swords strapped to his back did not put his mind at ease either. This man was trouble.

To his surprise the stranger placed a small leather pouch on the table, the sound of metal clinking about pulling his attention.

"You don't look like a man dying of thirst." He commented, glancing down at the pouch. "Beer is not so valuable in these parts stranger."

"No." The Rivian agreed. He caught a glimpse of ashen hair underneath that hood as the man shook his head. "No…it is not. But a room is."

"There are no rooms for the likes of you!" An unpleasant voice spat from behind before he'd even opened his mouth. There, huddled away in a corner were three men. The speaker, a fellow with a face not even a mother could love got up, ambling over while his companions got up as well.

If the Rivian was offended, he gave no sign of it.

"Leave unless you want to be dragged through the mud thief!" Another spat, his pockmarked face twisted in a snarl.

"Peace. I did not come here for trouble." The Rivian said quietly. "All I want is a cold drink and somewhere warm to rest." This was all directed towards him, still, the Rivian seemed vastly unperturbed by the men approaching him from behind.

"Rivian!" The now familiar yet no less unpleasant voice cried. "You bastard! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"I'd rather not. Not until I've had my drink." He caught a glimpse of a smirk on the Rivian's lips. "I have seen too many horrors today."

"Why you-!" There was the brief moment where the furious man drunkenly threw a punch before there was a sickening crunch as his head bounced violently off the counter. He hadn't even seen the Rivian move but he was up, his hand pinning the now unconscious man's face to his counter.

The Inn had gone completely still.

The other three moved in, but not before the hiss of a sword being drawn from its sheath.

A scream and suddenly one of the men dropped to the floor, an unsightly gash on his face. One of the remaining two aimed a punch at the Rivian but he merely cocked his head to the side before grabbing his arm, twisting it in a way that elicited a bloodcurling scream that made the hairs at the back of his hand stand up.

The last one remaining looked like a cornered rat as he stood there. The bravado from earlier all but gone from his face as he took in the pitiful state of his companions before looking up at the Rivian who'd sat back down at the counter, accepting the cold tankard he offered with a nod.

He really could not blame the man for bolting out the door like a stricken hare.

* * *

"Why is it you always make more enemies each time you visit Geralt." Nenneke said in a scolding tone that made him smirk. "Don't you smirk at me! I cannot vouch for you forever-"

"I never asked you to…nor do I want you to."

"I know. It is my choice." She sighed. "But please Geralt...stop giving me so much grief. If that Innkeeper hadn't spoken in your defense…"

"But he did Nenneke." He muttered.

"And if he didn't?"

He shrugged. "It was self-defense. There were more eyewitnesses and I'll wager those men are not particularly pleasant."

"Self-defense." She repeated. "From the descriptions of the wounds you spared no quarter to these men."

"Exaggerated reports I'm sure." The head priestess heaved another long sigh, shaking her head at him.

"We'll talk about improving your conduct later." She said sternly which he acknowledged with a stiff bow of his head. "How are things with your newest ward? How does he fare in his new life?"

"The boy's adjusting well enough."

"Triss told me about him when she stopped by." She commented. "The boy…Harry was it? If memory still serves me right….?" Nenneke trailed off, a look of uncertainty upon her face to which he nodded in confirmation.

"He goes by Henryk now."

"Really now?" She asked, a faint smile on her lips. "Vesemir's suggestion?" She asked approvingly to which he nodded.

"Yes." He said quietly, leaning his head back against the wall. "Vesemir took a liking to him. He only agreed to train him for the first few months but it's almost Saovine and he has no plans of leaving the Keep."

"And you Geralt?" She asked, gazing at him. "What do you make of him?"

"Him?" He asked slowly, mulling the thought over. "Good student. Quick learner."

"And?"

"And?" He grunted. "His swordmanship's painfully average but-"

"Geralt!"

"What?"

"Who is he? Really?" She pressed. "Where is he from?"

"Nenneke…if I had the answers to those questions I wouldn't willingly keep you in the dark." He said quietly.

For a moment there was only silence as the priestess stared into the eyes of the witcher. She expected him to elaborate…he knew that much.

But only silence was exchanged between them.

Finally Nenneke seemed to tire first as she got to her feet without another word. "Where are you headed?"

"Novigrad." He replied. "Ciri's with Yennefer and Triss." He elaborated at her look. "And its time I took on a few contracts…spent too much time in Kaer Morhen."

"Well then make haste." She remarked before smiling softly. "That girl…I've caught her writing letters to you whenever she was supposed to be studying while she was here." Her smile widened slightly when she saw the uncomfortable look on his face. "You do know she's fonder of you than you think."

"Hm." He grunted, but not unpleasantly so. "She's not a little girl anymore."

"That may be…but some things will never change. Remember that Geralt."

* * *

Novigrad…the free city. Or so one would be lead to believe.

The free city had not been the same. Not since the Nilfgaardians invaded. Novigrad being known for its prosperity would inevitably become the main focus for the Nilfgaardian empire if… _when_ this fragile peace breaks.

The racial tension between the humans and nonhumans was at the highest it'd ever been. Most humans seemed to be inclined to blame the latter…elves, dwarves, gnomes, halflings…they were all no less than traitors in their eyes. The nonhumans are treated no better than a plague…not that they were ever treated equally even before the war.

Geralt masked his disdain as he slowed Roach to a canter as he passed through the main gates. Out the corner of his eye he could see an elven woman being accosted by three men who, judging by her obvious distress, was harassing her. This was all happening in plain view and yet the guards were turning a blind eye to it as were the rest who were just going about their usual business.

This was no concern of his. It shouldn't be. Witchers only had one job and one job only, dispatch of the monsters that plagued this lands. The war, the race animosity…they shouldn't matter.

And yet he found himself keeping a close eye on the group. It was a flaw of his…as Vesemir had so eloquently put it in the past.

To his relief the woman wasn't subjected to any physical harm. The men still were rather blunt with their threats and he knew if they ever caught her outside of the city walls, she wouldn't be lucky.

Still…he still had business to conduct here…intervening and making a commotion wouldn't count in his favor. Perhaps if he ran into them far from the watchful eyes of the guards…

He continued on his way through the cobbled streets, ignoring the scathing looks shot his way by the general populous. The not so quiet 'Mutant', 'Freak', 'Monster' reached his ears from all around, yet he didn't bat an eye. As a witcher his kind weren't any better in human eyes…only their services were invaluable. Especially in these war torn times.

Before long he reached his destination, outside of a rather run down old hut facing the harbor. He'd have been unsure of whether or not this was the right place had he not smelt something that he hadn't in a long time.

Lilac and Gooseberries.

Frowning at the sensation it caused in his head he carefully dismounted. Ensuring his Roach was properly secured and away from the road he knocked on the door, albeit a little cautiously.

He hadn't even had time to gather his bearings when the door flew open, his eyes widening when his breath was knocked out of him as he was engulfed in what was an unmistakable hug, a completely new scent overpowering the other.

Ashen hair just like his despite never having undergone a witcher mutation. A scar on her cheek, almost mirroring his and icy green eyes staring back at him as she stepped back.

"Geralt! You took far too long!" She said happily.

"I did." He acquiesced with a smile. "But it is good to finally see you."

"You as well." She returned his smile. "Why _did_ you take so long?"

"Let the man catch his breath first." A familiar voice called from the corner. "Hello Geralt."

"Triss." He bowed his head towards the red haired sorceress.

"Go on then." She grinned. "Ask what you wanted to."

He'd almost denied it but thought better of it. Less beating around the bush. "Yennefer. She was here wasn't she?"

"Yen was here yes. And no, I do not know where she was headed." Triss answered making him sigh softly as he dropped down to a chair wearily.

"Not that its any of my business…" She trailed off, leaning against a pillar as Ciri promptly turned her chair which was facing a desk towards him before dropping on onto it as well. "But what _have_ you done? Or she?"

"When she tells me I'll let you know."

"Of course." She smirked. "If I asked her it'd probably be the same answer."

"Yes well…I'm not here for her." And he meant it. A pregnant pause filled the room as the two women glanced awkwardly at each other while the witcher stayed silent.

Thankfully though, Triss presented an out; "I take it your latest protégé has been the reason for your tardiness?" Ciri suddenly sat up straighter at that, something which was not missed by anyone.

"He needed a lot of work. The mutation is doing wonders in terms of endurance so…"

"You worked him day in and day out?" Triss asked reproachfully.

"Not my idea. And no, nor was it Vesemir's." He added before she could open her mouth again. "He requested it himself."

"Who is this person?" Ciri asked curiously. He shot Triss a look to which she answered with a slight shake of her head which he took to mean that she still hadn't shared anything with her.

"Ciri…you've wanted to return to Kaer Morhen for some time now haven't you?" He asked quietly, choosing not to answer her question.

If she was annoyed that she didn't get an answer, she didn't show it. Instead; "I did. I-I do."

"Why?"

She was silent for a few moments, a frown marring her features. "I don't know? I just…"

"Think carefully." He leaned forward. " _Why_ now?"

"I-" She gazed at Triss before looking back at him. He could see she was getting distressed by his insistent questioning, the confusion in her face was answer enough.

There was just one other thing he had to make sure of.

"Did you invoke the law of surprise with anyone when you were on the run?" He asked. "From a young woman perhaps?"

"No! Why would you ask that?" She answered, looking rather taken aback.

"Just a thought." He admitted. It had been a very far-fetched theory but it would've been a far easier one to accept. What remained only served to complicate things.

"What is this-"

"I will explain when we get there Ciri...go pack your things, we head out at nightfall."

* * *

They'd set off under the cover of night. Triss denied his invitation to accompany them back, saying she had business to take care of in the city. Besides, according to her, Ciri was no longer in need of her tutelage.

Ciri…Geralt glanced at the young woman beside him. They'd slown down to a slow walk as they kept to the path lit by moonlight, the horses content to trot along at a slow pace. She'd fallen asleep sometime ago.

" _Why did you ask her if she'd invoked the law of surprise?" Triss asked curiously._

" _Like I said, it was just a thought. I feel our mystery sorcerer is the reason she's being drawn back to Kaer Morhen." He muttered. "I myself was in a similar predicament, back when I didn't know it was Ciri who was bound to me by fate. I was drawn to her; somehow, no matter where I was…I was always drawn to wherever she was."_

 _Triss was silent for a few moments before she asked something he'd been dreading for a while now; "What will you do if he does turn out to be the reason? What if their fates had been interwoven as you two had?"_

" _If it comes to that…I need to find out why." He sighed. "From what I've been able to get out of him…he doesn't belong here. Not in this world. And Ciri…well…" No further words were needed to be said as he saw his inner turmoil reflected in Triss's eyes._

 _Believing in coincidence was a luxury they couldn't afford._

A howl tore the air making his ears prick up. It sounded eerily similar to the how of the striga he'd fought against on that fateful day.

It had been his choice to save the boy. No one else's.

Not that he had anything against the young sorcerer turned witcher…but he couldn't help wondering if he'd really chosen the lesser evil by letting him live.

Only time would tell.

* * *

"It's good to be back." Ciri muttered out loud at the sight of the old Keep.

"No place like home?" Geralt asked dryly.

"No place like home." She agreed before giggling at the look he sent her. "What?"

"Didn't you once mention in your letters that this was 'no place for a lady'?"

"I was twelve Geralt." She said with a roll of her eyes. "Going to school, the temple of Melitele, Yen and Triss's way of life…I find it not quite as pleasing anymore."

"Killing monsters and sleeping outdoors is more to your liking then?"

"Mhm…I prefer it." Geralt gave her an approving nod which made her smile in turn before adding; "Triss once scolded me for not riding side saddle! Said it's not fitting for a lady."

"Ignore her." Geralt muttered although she could hear the subtle tones of amusement coloring his voice.

"Mhm." Her ears pricked up as they drew closer, a sound she was more than a little familiar with that was still fresh on her mind despite all these ears. "The pendulum? Someone's training?" She asked in confusion.

The pendulum was part of the grueling training regiment she was put through back when she was learning the art of swordsmanship.

"Probably Henryk."

"Who?"

"Introductions will have to be made." He said mildly, dismounting off his horse. She followed suit after a grateful pat on her horse's (Kelpie) nose before following him inside.

"Is it a he or a she?" She asked as they walked on through the stone passageway, the unmistakable thumps of wood bashing against wood getting louder with each step as they started down the stairs.

"Triss didn't tell you anything?"

"No." She muttered. Geralt simply shrugged as they strode on past the familiar stone walls.

They came outside and there, sure enough, in the distance was Vesemir. She'd recognize him any day. His belly had gotten a bit bigger since the last time she'd seen him though…

She'd been correct, there _was_ someone there, tackling the pendulum, dancing about the wooden stakes.

She could see Lambert and Eskel, sitting a bit further away who raised their arms in a wave when they saw her who smiled back before returning the gesture. Understandably though, neither said anything as Vesemir was shouting instructions.

So she turned her attention to him. The boy who was nimbly weaving in and out, dodging the heavy iron pendulum. His wild black hair dancing about as his shirtless body twisted gracefully in a deadly dance.

 _Impressive._ She thought silently to herself as she watched the boy. His form wasn't perfect…but it was close.

Geralt was silent. His arms folded as his attention too, was on the boy. His face didn't hold much expression as per usual.

Vesemir did _not_ sound too impressed though.

"Faster! Lunge, attack, dodge! Half-pirouette, thrust, dodge! Balance!" Vesemir barked, his arms behind his back as his eyes followed the boy's movements like a hawk. "Balance with your left arm or you'll fall from the comb!"

The boy said nothing, but he seemed to take those instructions to heart as his movements changed accordingly. She caught a glimpse of white mingled within those raven locks as he twirled about.

"Faster boy! What are you? Tired?!"

"No!" The boy snarled.

"Then pick up your pace!" Vesemir spat. "Attack, dodge! Parry! Half-pirouette! Watch your balance! Lunge, thrust! Full pirouette! Jump and cut, now! Good!" Vesemir suddenly laughed. "Good! Now, faster!"

"Is he trying to kill him?" She asked quietly, edging closer to Geralt who smirked but didn't answer, his eyes still glued onto the boy just like hers. He _did_ get faster. His movements were almost a blur and she could hear his grunts as he struggled to breathe and yet he was not losing momentum at all.

This carried on for a bit longer but Vesemir stayed silent this time.

But, the boy suddenly stumbled, losing his balance momentarily as he wobbled about. Her eyes widened and she'd almost taken half a step forward as she saw the heavy wooden pendulum approaching him fast but he recovered almost right away before dodging it narrowly.

But the damage had been done, it seemed that completely broke his momentum as his movements got far slower than it'd been seconds ago.

"Stop!" Vesemir suddenly called. The boy complied, his right leg planting itself firmly on the stake behind him and his arms coming to a rest on either side of him, the wooden sword in his hand. She could see the sweat running down his body. "Break."

"I can…go on." The boy panted roughly. His voice was low, but not as low as Geralt's. Nor was it anywhere near as mature.

"No you cannot." Vesemir said shortly. "Anymore and you'll tear your muscles. Now get down from the comb."

The boy sighed before somersaulting off the stake, backwards. Vesemir nodded approvingly.

"You can take off the blindfold now."

The boy…Henryk…removed his blindfold before turning towards them, his eyes immediately meeting hers. His eyes, a witcher's eyes…so much like Geralt's yet as green as hers. Perhaps more.

She'd been right when she'd thought she'd caught a glimpse of white earlier; There were a few strands of hair that were a stark contrast to the otherwise raven mop of hair.

She smiled at him which elicited a similar response, although he looked rather unsure of himself as he looked away. It gave her the opportunity to shamelessly allow her eyes to roam over his body down to his breeches before catching herself and looking away as well, her face turning a little warm as she realized what she'd done.

The boy did not seem to notice this. "Geralt!" He smiled, this was a far more relaxed smile than what he'd given her.

"Harry." Geralt said pleasantly, giving the offered hand a firm grasp as the two greeted each other like old friends. Her eyebrow raised at the name Geralt used, but chose not to comment on it as Henryk-or Harry nodded at the older witcher before making his way up the stone path, Lambert and Eskel following in his wake after exchanging a few words with them.

"Ciri!" Vesemir suddenly said as he grasped her by the shoulders. "You're a sight for sore eyes lass I'll give you that!"

"Hello Vesemir." She smiled at her former mentor. "Already replaced me?"

"Replace the stubborn little whippersnapper who ran off whenever she had to study the books?" He asked incredulously while she mock glared at him. "I wish…it would at least be a change of pace."

"He's too good a student for you?" Geralt asked in mild amusement.

"Ahh...his rebellious streak could use a lot of work." He uttered with a shake of his head. "But then again…he hardly talks to anyone but you these days so what do I know."

"Be careful what you wish for."

Vesemir ignored him, turning to her. "So…Ciri, how did you like training to be a sorceress?" He asked as the three of them slowly set off back into the keep.

* * *

It was much later in the night when Geralt found her, sitting up beside a fire as she watched the stars twinkling brightly in the skies while absentmindedly stroking Kelpie's snout. She'd flat out refused to spend the night inside, preferring to sleep out by the stables.

She hadn't been allowed to do this sort of thing for the last few years after all.

"Why did you bring me back Geralt?" She asked quietly, without looking up at the white haired witcher.

He merely sighed before sitting down, mimicking her by stretching out on a bale of hay.

"Do you remember…the circumstances of how we met?" Her hand stilled.

"I do." She said quietly. "What of it?"

"I was drawn to you Ciri." He muttered. "Until I accepted why, there was always someone or something that brought me to you." She stayed silent. "I believe there is a reason why you wanted to come back here."

"Which is?"

"That is something only you can tell me."

* * *

 **AN: Hope you read the note I've put up at the very beginning. I have my reasons for doing that but yeah…I feel it should be better this way.**

 **So…the name I've chosen is 'Henryk'. It has the Polish undertone to it that I wanted plus it doesn't stray too far from 'Harry'. He will identify himself in his conscious as 'Harry' of course…and those closest to him will know him by his real name. But others will only know him by the new one.**

 **I actually took this name because of the hunter Henryk in Bloodborne…another game I'm still playing. If anyone is a ps4 user, invade my world ;D I'll send you running back home with yer tails between yer legs. (Nah..I'm just playing. Please don't kill me).**

 **But there were two people who suggested the name as well…so I must credit them for that (If I forgot one of you, my sincerest apologies);** 0Harry. 0, Tregun

 **That should be it. All I ask again is that you not expect me to follow the timelines rigidly. Now that there's a new player on board I could play around with the world and change things. That's the reason why fanfiction should be written…not to have a different perspective on events to unfold the same way as canon does. I will stay true to the lore as much as I can but things probably might change soon enough.**

 **Long as you guys understand that, I believe you will enjoy this story better.**

 **That's it. I've finally clocked in about 20 hours into witcher 3 and I'm loving every minute of it. It's delaying my story writing (His Angel readers, I'm sorry.) but I'm not quite as sorry as I should be I feel. I'll start working on the next chapter on that story from now on.**

 **PS – I-Y-T-Y…ahh why the hell not? I'll marry you. Set the date/time/location and I'll be there. All of my readers are invited.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Small apology for the time it took, but like I've stated before, it's a little difficult to plan things out for this story.**

 **Edit - I completely forgot to add breaks in between pov changes, thanks to darkquill master (sorry if I fucked up your name) for reminding me.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

* * *

"You have done well Henryk." The old man smiled. "I did not think you would meet my expectations."

 _Smiled._

For the past year Harry had only seen that expression when he was getting beaten black and blue by the pendulum.

It honestly felt strange, getting complimented by him. And make no mistake, a smile from Vesemir was the greatest praise he could ever hope to receive.

"You have but one trial left." There was a clink of metal as Vesemir tapped his medallion.

"Your medallion is hidden in the caverns East of here." His smile faded. "Return with it or don't return at all."

Harry merely nodded in response. He wasn't a fool, if he couldn't retrieve it, it was probably going to be because he got killed by whatever lurks inside. Even the trolls avoided the place.

"Good luck kid." Eskel smirked as he turned around, Vesemir already walking away. "Whatever you find there, make sure you bring back a trophy."

"Chances would be better if it's my head." He said wryly before accepting the offered hand, returning the firm handshake.

"If you're dead your ghost isn't going to bring your head back." Lambert said with a laugh from where he was watching. "Don't worry, I'll find it and give you a proper burial in that case."

"Thank you." He deadpanned.

"No problem. Here." He caught the thing Lambert threw at him which turned out to be a runestone. "It will resonate with your medallion if you get close to it. Don't lose it."

"Sure." He slipped the stone in his pocket. Seeing no reason to wait any longer he nodded to the two before setting off in a slow pace towards the door.

"Hey!" A new voice called from somewhere above him. " _Try_ not to get killed? I like knowing I'm not the only non-relic this place produced."

He smiled to himself, raising a hand in acknowledgment before walking out.

* * *

The forktail snarled, snapping its jaws shut viciously as it backed off, away from the heat.

Geralt eyed the beast carefully, the tip of his sword following its eyes as he copied it's movements in an almost hypnotic trance.

His _Igni_ sign had the beast wary, the underside of its maw was singed, badly, contributing to its increasingly erratic movements. The forktail was angry.

"Come on! I'm right here." He snarled, spreading his arms wide, hoping it would take the bait. The less threatening he'd seem now, the less likely it would fly away. Tracking it while it's taken flight again would kill his horse.

And yet the forktail made no moves, growling as it eyed him, its eyes fixed on his. It was being far warier of him than he'd expected.

He never expected it to be this intelligent. But then again, if its size was anything to go by, this was a well accomplished hunter.

If it wasn't going to make a move though…

Forming the _Igni_ again he started up the steady stream of fire causing the forktail to screech as it backed away again, but this time he kept it up, walking closer and making it back away until he abruptly stopped the stream before forming the sign for _Yrden._

The runes activated on the ground beneath it, its movements slowing to a crawl as it screeched again, this time louder than before, trying to back away but finding itself stuck inside the runic circle and a rock directly behind it.

"Go on, fly!" He growled, edging closer as it flapped its wings in vain. _Yrden_ was adding to its weight, multiplying its body weight five times to what it was and had rendered its attempts to escape useless.

Now was the time to strike.

He nimbly sidestepped the sudden snap of movement as it lunged at him, jaws clamping shut where his face was just a second ago before bringing his sword up with a yell, a pained screech followed by a dampness trickling down his arm signaling his sword had found its mark.

Without letting up he wrenched his sword from where it was edged on its neck before whirling around, using the momentum to bring his sword speeding down towards its target.

A clean whistle of silver cleaving through flesh-followed by a dull thud of something falling to the floor.

"Dam." He muttered, looking around at his handiwork. "I cut that deep?"

The forktail was lifeless on the floor, its head lying a few feet away from its body in a bloody mess.

At least the job was done. And…

"Trophy's already set." He murmured to himself, examining the head with his foot before sheathing his sword behind his back. "Roach!" He whistled before setting to work, tying a rope around it. "C'mere you coward." He called, hearing the familiar grunts announcing the arrival of his trusted companion.

"Always running away whenever there's a fight, quick to return when it's time for the pay eh?" He asked expectantly, tying the head next to one of the saddlebags. Roach merely grunted again, swishing its tail. "Thought so."

The road back wasn't to the village wasn't too far. Turns out the spot the villagers had chosen to build their settlement was smack in the middle of a forktail breeding ground, its nest no more than a few clicks away. It was no question that they would be facing problems with their people and livestock being a steady supply of food for the beasts.

He was still contemplating whether he should warn them or not though. The village elder who'd sent out the contract was unpleasant, a racist and a fool. The rest of them were not too far off.

Sure enough, when he entered he found most of the populous eyeing him with an air of mistrust. He could see a few of them armed with pitchforks even and at the center of them was the elder.

"Is this how you greet one who'd carried out a service?" He asked slowly as he came to a stop.

"Shut it you filthy mutant." One of them snarled. "If we had known someone like _you_ had taken the contract, we'd never have put it!"

"Who were you hoping for then? The royal guard?"

"Is it done?" The elder cut in. "If it is you can take your leave."

"Not without my pay." He said evenly.

"Rivians…" The elder spat before throwing a pouch at him.

"This was not the amount on the contract."

"It's more than you deserve." The other man said. "Take it and get out of here!"

"I'm sorry..." He began to dismount, taking note of the way they immediately started backing off. "I was under the impression that contracts existed for a reason." He untied the head of the forktail. "As a witcher I'm obligated to carry out my duties for those in need of a little monster hunting and one of the terms I'm bound by requires me to ensure my client's safety." He threw the head at the feet of the elder. "But if the contract isn't valid I'm no longer bound by such things." He finished, cracking his fingers audibly.

"So have I carried out my terms of the contract only to find my client is refusing to hold his end up?"

"No!" The elder said quickly, shaking the man beside him, the same one who'd spoken before roughly. Geralt smiled, the lad seemed to be thinking about attacking him judging by his actions. "Stop it!" He growled under his breath although Geralt could hear him. "You'll kill us all if you pick a fight with this creature. You! Take this and to hell with you! It's our entire livelihood but you don't care about that do you?!"

Geralt caught the second pouch which was much bigger than the last one before pocketing it. "Not really. If it is your whole livelihood you should know better than to sign that amount on your contract."

"Begone freak! And never come back."

With a nod he mounted Roach before setting off in a slow trot towards the main gates.

Warning them of the fact that they were settled in the breeding ground of the very monster they'd set a contract out to kill didn't seem very practical anymore.

Perhaps this was nature's way of picking off the blemishes that walk this world.

* * *

"Oi Geralt! Get yer arse over here!"

"Zoltan." Geralt greeted pleasantly, walking over to join the dwarf at his table. "Didn't think I'd find you in the Rosemary of all places."

"Say what yeh will about this place but if it's wenches and drinks yer lookin for yeh'll find no finer establishment." The dwarf declared, slamming his mug of mead on the table for dramatic effect. "We're men of similar tastes are we not Geralt? After all, it should be one or the other. Tell me, which lass caught yer fancy?"

"Business before pleasure as per usual."

"Someone needed a few critters taken care of then?"

"You could say that." He smiled making the dwarf laugh.

"Look at us. We fought wars didn't we? Here we are now running around doing this lot's bidding."

"You still haven't told me what you do."

"A handyman." Zoltan answered without batting an eye. "A fucking handyman Geralt. I fix whatever they ask me to."

"So you work here then?" He asked. "Not a bad place to be honest."

"It has its perks." The dwarf nodded. "And the owner isn't a prick like most, although the lad is a milkdrinker if I ever saw one. But, I must confess, I've been wondering where ye've been holed up in? Tried asking that bastard poet but he's no use either."

"Kaer Morhen. Decided to slow things down for now."

"Ah…I understand. But that reminds me, what about yer wee lass?"

"She's not mine Zoltan…" He began in an annoyed tone only to have the dwarf rolling his eyes and downing his mead.

"Say what yeh will, the lass takes after yeh in more ways than one…although without the ugly mug o'course."

"I see your wit hasn't dulled a bit."

"And yer sarcasm hasn't dulled either. So tell me, what have yeh really been up to in that fortress of yours?"

"You sound like you have little faith in me old friend." Zoltan laughed at that.

"And you sound like you believed me when I said I was the handyman."

* * *

Harry cracked his neck wearily, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that was slowly building up.

He'd trekked through the mountain at least a dozen times before, but never had he ventured so deep. He was almost at his goal.

Almost.

He couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being watched though. Occasionally he would hear the cracking of a twig or the rustling of leaves but the wind almost always turned out to be the culprit.

The moonlight served well in guiding him on his path. So far, the day long journey from Kaer Morhen had taken him through the woods and to the far side of the lake. It had been long, tedious...but he was happy that the only things he'd had to draw his sword on were a few packs of starving wolves and a single drowner that seemed to have wandered away from its pack.

The runestone he'd gotten was humming softly as well, signaling that he was on the right path but…now that it was night-time he was far warier. He'd steered as clear from the paths that lead towards the abandoned shacks and the older training grounds. Vesemir had warned him that if he chose to stumble onto those places, he'd more than likely come across a few wraiths. Not something he was too keen on, especially given the fact that the tools he had for dealing with that kind of a threat were vastly limited.

He was also hearing something that sounded far too out of place as well. Amidst the howls and the occasional screech coming from the abandoned grounds, he could hear a faint voice.

A feminine one, and every step he was taking towards the top was bringing him closer to it.

If all his time in this strange new world had taught him one thing, it was that if there was anything that sounded out of place, it was probably bad.

Nevertheless, he trudged on, drawing his sword and taking comfort in the faint yellow glow of the runes that lit up along with the faint hiss of a blade. He'd learnt to give up on his grip on his magic, instead favoring the comfort that only cold steel could offer.

But even that it seemed, was not enough to steady his heart as he heard the voice again.

' _Wolves asleep amidst the trees_

 _Bats all aswayin' in the breeze'_

That was when he saw her. A woman, her back turned to him.

' _But one soul lies anxious, wide awake_

' _Fearin' all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths'_

She turned around, dark red hair framing her face as she smiled coyly at him.

' _My dear dolly, polly shut your eyes_

' _Lie still, lie silent until no cries'_

"You have a pretty voice." He remarked quietly, his hand tightening on his sword.

"Does it distract you?" She asked, her smile never leaving her face.

"Only as much as your beauty." Her smile widened as she reached behind, undoing the bun on her hair, letting it flow freely in the breeze. She stepped closer, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she did.

"Is this flattery dear Witcher?"

"I meant it." He wasn't lying, she _is_ a sight to behold. Her robe was just clinging to her body, giving just a glimpse of what lay beneath for all to see. Her face betrayed nothing but pure innocence as it took on a red hue at his words.

"Pity really." She sounded sad, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. "One so young…yet so eager to kill."

"I didn't come here for you." This was bad. She was no ordinary woman.

She was no ordinary monster either.

Instinct was telling him to run.

"Oh? Now that's hard to believe." She stepped closer, her hands wrapped around her chest as if to cover her modesty. "Why would you venture so far in these lands if you didn't have your eyes on a trophy?"

"I came for an item." He answered, his voice never wavering. "An object that I intend to collect."

"You mean this old thing?" Her hands unwrapping to reveal a medallion.

His medallion. The wolven head.

"Yes." She hummed.

"Are you going to take it from me?" She asked, something shifting in her face for the briefest moment. He saw it for a split second, her warm, brown eyes shifting to a lifeless white orb.

"I'd prefer if it didn't come to that."

"My my…aren't you a brave little wolf." She smiled. "Tell me Witcher, once you've taken your medallion what do you intend to do? Do you wish to go off on your travels, tearing apart any of the so-called monsters you come across for coin?"

"That is not my intent."

"Are you not a Witcher?" She asked, her voice colder than before.

"I am."

"Then you will not fulfill your tasks?"

"I will."

"Do you not see the conundrum then?"

"I will carry out my tasks if it's deemed necessary." He answered shortly. "I have no qualms with beings that wish to live freely." She pursed her lips, her brow furrowed as if deep in thought.

"That is not something I've heard from your kind."

"And I haven't had a conversation with one of yours." He shot back making her laugh.

"Then this should be a meeting to be remembered." She said, her voice getting husky. "I am rather disappointed…I was hoping to kill you-but it would seem you're better off alive." She smiled, but this time there was no trace of the woman from before. There was something else hidden beneath her, something that he knew would kill him before he had the chance to react. "For now."

She held out her hand, the medallion dangling from its chain. After a brief moment's hesitation, he reached for it when she suddenly gripped his hand, pulling him closer with strength that he wasn't prepared for.

"Dear Witcher…" She whispered. He could feel her cold breath on his ear, her lips grazing it ever so slightly as she spoke. "It is not so easy, I found the medallion, so I require payment."

Before he could say anything else he felt a sharp pain on the side of his neck. He tried to wrench free of her but her grip was just too strong. He was completely at her mercy.

But almost as soon as the pain had begun, it also stopped. He felt her fangs leave his skin before she planted something akin to a lover's graze on his neck before she stepped away, releasing him.

She grinned at him, her face ever so innocent, yet her mouth and chin covered in blood.

"Your medallion Witcher." She held it out a second time. This time he snatched it away from her without hesitation.

"Thanks."

"Now run along…it's almost dawn, you wouldn't want to get caught in the hunt." He nodded, sheathing his sword behind his back before turning around. "Oh, and Witcher?" she called after him. "In this world, monsters are not always so obvious."

He turned back, only to find her clothes on the ground. There was no trace of her, the only thing he heard was a faint voice;

' _For the Witcher heartless cold, paid in coin of gold_

' _He comes, he'll go, leave naught behind but heartache alone~'_

* * *

 **AN: If anyone's interested in the lyrics, it's from the 'lullaby of woe' which was released later as part of the Witcher 3 soundtrack. I also got the idea for the particular interaction after watching Geralt fighting what Harry faced here, but unlike the cinematic, I'd rather not kill off what seems like such an interesting character so early on.**

 **I started playing the game again which is probably what drove me to write more. But I'll try to keep updates more frequent…I enjoy writing this story more than any of my other ones so I guess that's a plus.**

 **That's it for now I guess. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Ciri was worried.

At first, she hadn't really spared him much thought. After all, he unlike her had the benefit of the mutation so he shouldn't have too much trouble dealing with anything that stood in his way.

But.

He should've been back before nightfall. Now it was almost the crack of dawn.

She looked over her shoulder, up at the balcony where Vesemir was at his silent vigil. He had been up there since the light had begun to fade and hasn't moved nor said anything since.

She knew he was worried as well…which was the cause for her mounting unease.

And yet…all she could do was stare out into the wilderness and hope for his return. She had half a mind to ride off in search of his tracks, but she knew Vesemir's silent vigil was for her sake as well as his. She wasn't going to be able to give him the slip.

As it turns out though, she wouldn't have to wait for long. She sat up straighter, unsure if she wasn't just hearing things. She quickly turned to look up at Vesemir who'd moved as well, his arms resting on the wall in front of him as he was squinting at something in the distance.

There it was, the unmistakable sound of a horse's hoof beats.

Finally…

"It's him!" She yelled happily before jumping off the rafters, landing nimbly on the floor before setting off in a run towards the courtyard.

She'd only just reach it to find Eskel there already along with Vesemir, both of who were watching her in amusement.

"She's excited." Eskel muttered idly with a raised eyebrow. Vesemir had a similar look on his face.

"So?" She crossed her arms defiantly. "I did say I'd prefer him alive-what?" She added, glaring at Vesemir who snorted.

"Nothing at all."

"Uh-huh." She ignored the two of them, instead focusing her attention to the main gates through which the rider had come through, slowing to a stop right in front of them.

"I don't think Kelpie appreciated me a lot." The rider said softly as he came to a stop, smiling at her as he dismounted. "Kept trying to throw me off for the first few hours."

"Did he?" She patted Kelpie's nose as he kept trying to nuzzle into her hand. "He seems to like you now though." She returned his smile although it was a little difficult. He didn't look too well.

He seemed completely unfazed by the state of his appearance. The side of his neck was stained in blood and the front of his shirt was stained crimson as well although it could be due to the aforementioned.

Eskel asked her question for her. "The hell happened to you? You look like shit."

"I should." He agreed. "But…" There was a clink as he withdrew something from the reaches of his leather armor. "I'm not empty handed."

"Well done indeed." Vesemir muttered, reaching for the medallion before stopping.

A frown grew on the old Witcher's face as he stared at it. Eskel looked like he was going to say something but grew quiet as well, his gaze settling on the piece of metal.

She glanced between the two of them before looking back at Henryk who's face had contorted into a smile as he watched the two of them.

Not the pleasant one he'd given her before…no, this was a anything but that.

"How did you get this." Vesemir asked quietly, slowly taking the medallion from him and giving her a good look in the process as well.

It was only then she noticed the difference.

The witcher medallions were all the same for their school: A silver wolf's head with ruby gemstones imbued with magic planted in the eye sockets.

This one though…the eyes were a clear amber.

"You tell me." Henryk said slowly. "I almost died retrieving it. Funny thing really, if you wanted me dead I don't understand why you went through the trouble of training me all this time."

If Vesemir was offended by his tone, he didn't show it.

"This was not the medallion I intended for you." He said before his voice grew more demanding. "Where did you find this."

"It was given to me."

"By who?"

"A woman." Vesemir inhaled sharply. "Or…what looked to be a woman." Henryk acquiesced after a few moments.

"Describe her."

"Pale skin, red hair." He muttered. "Lovely voice." He added as an afterthought.

"You can't mean…" Eskel began before Vesemir cut him off.

"An Alp?"

She couldn't believe it either.

There are only two things witchers are advised against facing: Dragons and Higher Vampires.

While Dragon slaying is cautioned due to the fact that dragons are mostly benevolent creatures if left alone and are among the wisest creatures out there, higher vampires are the polar opposite. No witcher in living memory has tangled with one and lived to tell the tale.

Alps are a breed of higher vampires that are exclusively female. Unlike their Bruxa counterparts which can sometimes be reasoned with, even going as far as exchanging life for blood, Alps are notorious for never letting their prey escape.

"Why _are_ you in one piece?" Eskel asked.

Henryk simply shrugged. "Talked to her. I knew I wasn't going to be able to fight her."

"And?"

"One thing lead to another and now I'm here." He folded his arms. "Fuck if I know. I'm just as surprised as you."

"What about that?" Vesemir asked, indicating the wound on his neck.

"That was her." He muttered, his hand coming up to cover it. "She did say the medallion wasn't free."

"You made a deal?" Ciri blurted out. He stared at her for a few moments before his hand came down.

"I…guess? I didn't have a choice. She overpowered me and started…well" He grimaced, indicating his bloodstained neck. "But she stopped…" The last few words were muttered more to himself as she took note of how his eyes avoided all of them at that point.

"I do not know how you came to face her." Vesemir said quietly. "You learnt from me. You know that we do not choose to face a creature like that. That should assure you that I had no intention of sending you to face one, especially as a trial to complete your training." His voice grew hard. "As you said, if I really wanted you dead, I wouldn't have spent so long teaching you."

"I spoke too soon there." Henryk replied, his eyes still cast on the ground although his hand hadn't moved from the wound on his neck. "Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive. I'm more impressed if anything." Here Henryk looked up. Vesemir had a smile on his face. "It's not every day a witcher can say they've faced something like that and lived with nothing more than a love bite."

To his credit, he did flush slightly at that.

"This medallion on the other hand…" Vesemir's smile faded. "It belonged to one of our own…slain in his line of duty. This…" The medallion clinked as he held it out. ""I thought this was gone forever. To think it would be in the possession of one of _them._ " He took a deep breath before shaking his head.

"A witcher should never be buried without his effects-but the time for that is long past. That creature gave this to you and let you walk?" He reached out and wrapped the chain around Henryk's hand. "It is yours now, wear it proudly. And if you cross paths with that monster again, make it regret its choice."

* * *

"You're awfully quiet." Ciri murmured.

"Hm?"

"Come on…I don't want another Geralt." She was rewarded with a roll of his eyes making her laugh.

They were the only two up. It was well into the early hours of the morning but seeing as she wasn't too tired she'd offered to help tend to his wounds.

Which is how they now came to be on the roof of the top most tower, lying on their backs as they gazed at the skies littered with stars.

"Got a few things on my mind." He said quietly.

"About what?"

"About Vesemir's final words…and what she said to me."

"She?"

"The monster." He said mockingly. "Wonder if she had a name."

"Humanizing them isn't going to make your duties easier."

"My duty?" He scoffed. "You're beginning to sound like Vesemir…it's unbecoming of you."

"Still…whatever she was, it is a miracle you came back."

"She chose to let me come back." He fell silent. "I just-I don't know if I would've done the same for her if I wasn't so sure I won't survive it."

Ciri didn't answer right away, and when she spoke, her voice had a note of hesitancy in it. "I feel you're better off not asking yourself that question."

"I agree." He sighed. "Not everything is so black and white after all." Silence fell between them for a few moments.

"Harry…" She surprised herself by using that name. His 'real' name. But she knew she had his undivided attention as a result. "Just tell me that you will raise your sword when you have to. No, really…" She added when she saw look he was giving her. "I have seen what people resort to when they refuse to fight."

His eyes met hers for a few moments, the eerie green orbs softening. For a moment it was as if they became more human.

She felt his hand reach for hers which she allowed, relishing in the comfort it offered. It was strange really, back then she'd only looked to Geralt for this type of reassurance. What Harry offered her was different-different in a good way.

She was probably the closest to him out of everyone. Not just because of the fact that they were two people brought together by a similar fate, but because they could relate far better to what the other had endured than anyone else.

The past still managed to haunt her. Her memories of Cintra…the slaughter, she could never forget them. Harry was the only other person who seemed to understand-who seemed to _connect._ She may not know all there is to know about him but form what she'd learnt, he'd lost a fair share of people as well.

"I will." He said softly. "If I have your word that you do the same."

She smiled slightly before giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"You have my word."

* * *

Geralt took a long draw from his tankard before setting it down, Vesemir's letter still plaguing his mind.

Henryk had completed his final trial.

That was not what troubled him. In fact, he was rather pleased that Henryk managed to get this far.

The boy's training had been rough. Even with the mutations administered beforehand the boy struggled through the training at a pace similar to Ciri back when she'd been training which had served in disappointing Vesemir time and time again.

But the disappointment had soon turned to surprise when they'd seen the sheer amount of willpower the boy had. He trained far harder than anyone that had come through the wolf school and now he was finally a true successor to their order.

That was all good news.

What troubled him were the special circumstances behind his final trial. How, if what Vesemir said was true, the boy had gotten a medallion that hadn't been intended for him from the least likely source.

For a moment his eyes strayed towards one of the women sitting further away from him, her hair dancing about merrily as she laughed at her drunken partner's antics.

The source…if it was true, the source had to be Vereena. It was a name that had come up many times over the past few decades.

She'd been described as an exotic beauty, a woman with the ability to captivate anyone who'd gaze upon her. Artists have spent years trying to capture her likeness, poets have spent years more composing ballads trying to capture her charm.

The witchers? They had stories about her as well, but those were a bit different from what the fools in the cities and villages were dreaming up.

Whereas the artists depicted her pale complexion and sultry smiles, the witchers knew the ravenous gaze of a starving beast. Where the ballads described her flowery scent and delicate voice, the witchers knew the stench of rotting flesh and guttural roars.

The first witcher who'd attempted to put an end to Vereena's reign had been the last. He'd been a fellow wolf.

He remembered the night they'd found his body. It'd been dumped just outside their fortress…nothing more than a bloody mess, both swords-silver and steel protruding from his back. In the distance they saw her, watching them with a smile, her hand wrapped around a medallion.

The message had been clear. The predator had become the prey that night, and she'd claimed her own trophy.

He took another swig of his mead, grimacing as he did. The sweet taste had gone sour as his lips twisted into a grimace. That medallion was now Henryk's.

And it had been handed to him by a monster.

A hint of a smile graced his lips as he got up, his eyes still on the woman from before. She was hanging off the arm of the drunk and was leading him outside, his medallion vibrating as she passed him.

The boy already had a tale of his own and he was nothing more than a fledgling.

The cold night air felt refreshing as he stalked after the pair, drawing his sword quietly as he did.

Perhaps a day would come when he didn't have any regret about saving the boy's life. But if there were more surprises in store, the chances of that day was going to be slim.

* * *

Harry could remember the first time he'd walked into Ollivander's to buy a wand. The excitement, it had felt like getting a brand new toy.

And now he was feeling it again as he tested out his new 'toy'.

The silver sword just felt _good_ in his hand as he slashed at an imaginary foe. He loved the clean whistle of the way the blade cleaved through air.

It felt like an extension of his arm more than anything…a beautiful, intricate extension of his arm.

The red runes carved onto the blade glowed slightly as he gazed at them, spelling out _'Dubleidd'_. The guard slanted upwards, a silver wolven head in place of the pommel.

This is _his_ sword. That was the name bestowed upon him by Vesemir.

The black wolf.

"Careful, you might cut yourself." A none too happy voice broke him out of his reverie. Ciri had her arms folded as she leaned against the wall, a hint of envy on her face.

"I'm sorry you never got yours." He said with a straight face, sheathing it behind his back, next to its steel counterpart.

"Not my fault I never got to complete my training." She grumbled under breath. Vesemir who'd been right beside her laughed before patting her head.

"It's not." Vesemir agreed. "You will get yours as well. Or just pester Geralt until he caves as he always does."

"He doesn't!"

"Ciri, he is the reason you're still spoilt."

"I'm not!"

Harry was barely keeping himself together. The thought of a fatherly Geralt was simply ludicrous. But at the same time he knew it was true in a way. It was undeniable that Ciri had a strong attachment to the white wolf.

Heck, they'd have no problem passing off as a father and a daughter anywhere. The two shared a bit too many physical traits for not being biologically related.

"So Henryk, I believe you're going to be accepting Triss's offer?" Vesemir asked, ignoring Ciri who huffed in response.

"I will. I don't think it can hurt to relearn what I've forgotten." He added, a hint of guilt seeping to his voice. The wand Triss had given him lay in his room, tucked away in a shelf gathering dust. He'd devoted himself completely to his witcher training and while he'd excelled at their own brand of magic, what Hogwarts and his life before had taught him were all but forgotten.

"Yes." Vesemir agreed, albeit with a hint of reluctance. "What good is potential if you don't use it after all? But I would advise you to take some time before you head to Novigrad. There will be no shortage of jobs for you to do once you're outside of these walls. It will help you get accustomed to your new life."

"I will." He nodded. "Where do you suggest I begin?"

"Ellander. It will help." Vesemir added at his look. "Nenneke has asked for you and she carries a lot of influence in the city. Your association with her can help people trust you and it will solidify the rumor that you are from Ellander, if there is anyone who cares to remember." He smiled wanly. "You will see for yourself. A witcher will never be welcome to strangers."

"Nothing new for me." Harry muttered. Vesemir simply nodded before offering his hand which he took in a firm grasp.

"Be careful wolf. Don't let my teachings go to waste. And lest it be forgotten, you are always welcome here."

"Thank you…master."

* * *

 **AN: Sorry about the time between updates, but it just can't be helped. Just too busy with stuff.**

 **I am glad to get this chapter out the way though. I can finally move past the setup…I know some people enjoy that aspect of the story but to me, reading and writing that bit has always been a bit boring.**

 **But either way, we're moving on. I want your opinion on something though, especially from readers who've read Andrzej Sapkowski's books. Should I structure the story from here on out the ways they are in the books? As short, independent stories in a chronological order or just keep going like this?**

 **And, would you guys like it if I started naming the chapters rather than the generic 'chapter 1, chapter 2' etc.**

 **Let me know.**

 **Thanks for reading, I'll see you (hopefully sooner than later) with the next chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

* * *

 **Sorry about that. Thanks for the notifications. It should have the right chapter now**

Harry sighed heavily as he leaned his head back against his arm, his gaze fixed upon the darkened skies.

He and Ciri had parted ways just outside of Velen over a week ago. She had to get back to her tutelage under Yennefer in Novigrad.

Although she'd pleaded with him to accompany her, she also knew that he needed time to get accustomed to life outside of the fortress. Nevertheless, the two'd traveled as far as they possibly could together before they'd separated.

He shook his head, forcing himself to not think about the ashen haired woman. He missed her more than he cared to admit, but he had plenty more things to worry about.

It was only after he'd begun travelling outside of Kaer Morhen that he'd begun to appreciate the fortress.

Vesemir's warning had been an understatement. The local folk did _not_ take too well to him. Humans generally looked upon him with distaste, the non-humans, at least the few he'd come across simply ignored him.

And yet there was no shortage of jobs for him.

Barely a week since he'd left the fortress he'd taken care of a ghoul problem plaguing a local cemetery, helped a hunter track down his dog, helped lift a 'curse' off a farmer's daughter who kept sleepwalking at night.

The last one had been the most profitable surprisingly. As it turned out the daughter wasn't cursed. She'd simply been having a secret affair with the village blacksmith.

A smirk crept up on his face as he remembered that night. He'd followed the girl discreetly in the dead of the night and caught the two in a hut just outside of the village. When he'd explained that he had no choice but to inform the girl's father of her late night antics, the couple practically begged him to be silent on the matter.

But of course Witchers never worked for free…so now he had a couple hundred crowns jiggling merrily in his pocket as payment for his silence. The girl's father had been extremely relieved to hear that he'd lifted her curse (even told him to feed her goat's milk for a few weeks every night when the moon was visible for good measure) so he had an extra fifty from him as well.

After all, he _had_ cured her curse…sort of. The girl wouldn't be 'sleepwalking' anytime soon now that she knew her father had a close eye on her.

He grinned to himself when he thought of what Hermione would say to what he'd done.

Hermione…how long had it been since that name surfaced in his mind?

It was difficult for him to recall his life before this nightmare of sorts began. Parts of his memory felt clouded. He couldn't remember that last time he'd been in Hogwarts.

Worse still he'd realized he couldn't remember the last place he'd been before he'd wound up in that cursed crypt. His memories of everything leading up to that night felt like a jumbled mess.

In fact, it felt like _everything_ was a jumbled mess.

It was the reason he embraced his training so vigorously. It gave him something to focus on, something _real._ The few moments he allowed himself respite and allowed his mind to wander, all he could turn up were strange faces, stranger names, a grand castle, so on and so forth. He was having trouble connecting the dots.

He could remember certain people...like a bushy haired female, a red haired male and now more frequently, a red haired female whose eyes were hauntingly similar to his...just more human than not.

All these people were causing a sharp ache in his chest. The same ache that Ciri's absence seemed to be causing now.

But while he could remember those, there were still memories that would plague him sometimes, memories that were far too easy for him to forget.

And forget he did. Or just forced them back into the reaches of his mind.

Sighing in frustration he turned over, focusing instead on the dying embers of the fire beside him.

For now, he just had to tread onward and find where the roads will take him.

Before he finally gave in to sleep though, he could've sworn he heard a faint voice singing.

* * *

"Ploughin' whoreson, who does he think he is? Walking in 'ere with two swords."

Harry simply ignored the drunk, taking his seat near the front, near where the barmaid was. It had bothered him a little initially, on his few days away from the fortress to find so many people muttering curses at him and treating him with general malice, but that had eventually faded away when he'd realized two things.

One, the common folk…despite harboring a deep mistrust towards his 'kind', were afraid of him.

Two, peasants on hooch were quick to talk, even quicker to flee if he stared at them long enough.

"Alright there dearie? Fancy a drink?" The woman asked with a smile. Something he returned briefly, pleasantly surprised at her conduct.

"Ale will do…some bread as well if you don't mind."

"That all?" She asked with a slight frown. "A few crowns too short for a bit of meat?"

"No I-"

"Don't you worry about it." She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Pay what you can, you are my guest."

"But…" The woman already had her back turned to him, barking orders at her helper. "I really…"

"Don't waste your breath lad." Another voice interrupted, this time from right beside him. The bald man who'd spoken raised his drink in greeting at him. "It was your good fortune Iva here seems to like you. Don't waste it."

"Long as I'm not imposing." He muttered, accepting the tankard placed in front of him.

"Hmph…at least your kind are doing our people a service. Not like those mongrels who come here every night, squandering away their earnings on drinks." Iva said with a shrug. "Your food will be out in a moment, anything else you'll be needing for the night young man?"

"Not right now." He said with a bow of his head. "Thank you." She smiled at him before turning away, leaving him to his drink.

At least he would've been able to have his drink in peace had there not been an annoyance sitting right next to him.

"You're probably the youngest witcher I've seen on the road." The bald man said conversationally.

"Mhm" He said shortly, tearing a piece off of the bread that was placed before him along with a plate of stew.

"Not too talkative eh?" The man smiled, as if enjoying a private joke. "And how are you adjusting to this life? Must feel like a completely different world to you…from what you were before."

Harry turned to look at the man who still had the same smirk on his face. The man was an odd fellow, his initial assessment of him had him marked as a common runt, but his eyes told a different story.

There was something deeply unsettling in them.

"Odd choice of words." He remarked. "You are?"

"Gaunter O'Dimm at your service." The man said with a slight flourish, taking a swig of his drink. "But I am right am I not? Even if my choice of words may not sit too well with you."

"Quite the opposite." Harry said carefully. "I've never met someone who assumed as much and yet spoke with such conviction."

"I am right." O'Dimm stated in a matter of fact voice.

"And why would you say that?"

"Because you have not disagreed with me."

Harry smiled tightly at that.

No. This man was definitely not part of the usual riff raff.

Come to think of it, why was this man sitting right here, next to him? A quick scope of the inn told him that his presence had warded off most of the villagers except for the barmaid, and yet this man had approached him.

"Forgive me if I have given you cause to be mistrustful of me…I was simply curious." The man said, scratching the back of his head. "It is not every day that I get to chat with a witcher."

"I'm fairly new to my craft." Harry said with a shrug, returning to his food. "So I don't think there's much for me to say."

"Perhaps." O'Dimm seemed to be contemplating something. "Perhaps when you are not so new to your craft you could indulge me in the future."

"Perhaps." He agreed.

"Then it's a deal." The man smiled as he bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I will leave you to your meal then, it is time I was on my way as well."

"Safe journey O'Dimm."

"To you as well my friend." The man got to his feet. "I don't think I will have long to wait though. You may be new to all this Harry, but the next part of your tale is right around the corner."

Harry was already on his feet, rounding on the man who'd uttered his real name when a female scream and shouts broke out. The rest of the inn's inhabitants were already rushing outside while he was staring at the space where O'Dimm had been just a few seconds ago.

He didn't have much time to dwell on this though as the screams were getting more frantic and he could hear loud voices outside. Strapping his swords on his back he stepped outside, pushing past the group of villagers blocking the view.

Two men, armed. On the ground was an elvin woman, her arms bound.

"Which one of you harbored this wench?" One of the men shouted, glaring at the crowd watching the spectacle. "Come forward or the whole lot of you will be facing the axe."

"I wasn't harbored by anyone." The woman snarled. "You really think I'd seek protection from one of your kind?!"

"Then how does a little squirrel like you survive this long in _our_ village? Right under our noses?"

"Probably because you're as dim as you look."

"A sharp tongue eh?" He leered at her. "We'll see how sharp it is when its cut off…or when its put to better use." He laughed, looking over at the other two. "Elvin whores are a rare breed. What do you say lads? She'd go for a tidy sum…pretty little thing like her."

The other villagers were already dispersing as the man roughly dragged the woman to her feet.

Harry'd almost turned away as well for a moment, but he was already cursing himself under his breath when he found himself moving towards the group.

The two men noticed his approach, obvious in the way both drew their weapons. "This doesn't concern you witcher." The one that'd been threatening the elf spoke.

"It doesn't." He agreed. "I'm simply curious, who're you trying to sell her off to?"

"Oh there are plenty of buyers in the city sir!" The other man said earnestly. "She's a Scoia'tael, see? A criminal! She'll be put to work in the city. If not, the army would be mighty interested in her."

"Working in a brothel or death I guess?" Harry muttered, glancing down at the woman. Her blue eyes glared right back at him, her face set. She looked far too proud to protest.

It was true. While he had no interest in the power struggles going on in these lands he knew one thing, non humans faced widespread discrimination. Elves in particular.

"Got your answer eh? How about you poke your nose somewhere else then?" The other one growled.

The internal struggle must've shown on his face since two of the men reached for their weapons. He really hated this, his _need_ to help.

A good friend once said he had a 'saving people thing'.

He really hated that.

"How much were you looking to sell her for."

"What's it to you?"

"I'm trying to figure out how much elves go for these days." He said irritably making the man scowl. "What do you think?"

"A witcher trying to buy an elf? Now that's interesting."

"What do you want her for?" The earnest fellow asked before an ugly smile appeared on his face. "Keeping the goods to yourself I bet."

"Something like that." He said carefully. "So? I haven't got all day."

"What do you say? Would save us a spot of trouble." The earnest one asked his partner who was seemed to be thinking it over.

Harry folded his arms, avoiding the elf's gaze as he watched the two idiots argue over it. He knew at the end of the day the two of them weren't doing this for any reason other than coin.

At least he hoped so, they would be far easier to sway if it were.

"How much would you pay for her then eh?" The other one asked, presumably the less dumber of the two.

"You tell me. I hunt monsters, you're the one hunting women." He said with a smirk, enjoying the way the man flushed at his words.

"200 crowns." The man snarled. "And no lower."

"Doubtful anyone would pay that for her." Harry said, meeting the elf's eyes as he did.

If looks could kill. That elf would've fed him to the dogs by now.

"Besides, if you name a price like that to the army you will be hung right next to her."

"Then we'll find someone else." The man spat. "Get outta my sight freak."

"Come now…" Harry discreetly formed the Axii sign behind his back. "We can be reasonable. 30 crowns and you will go no higher."

"30?! 30…I mean…." The man shook his head. "30 crowns?" The man suddenly smiled, sheathing his sword before grasping his hand. "You drive a hard bargain indeed master witcher. 30 crowns for the wench and you're free to use her however you see fit!"

"Hey, hey!" The other man shook his partner. "What's wrong with you? 30 crowns?!"

"Oh, and I forgot one other thing." Harry muttered as he passed the coins over while the man pushed the elf towards him. He caught her by the arm before placing her behind him. "You're not going to mind what I do next."

"What other thing?" The other man asked while his partner nodded dumbly.

The man barely had time to react as he found himself on the ground, clutching his nose which was bleeding profusely. His eyes widening comically as Harry crouched down in front of him, wiping some of the blood off his fist.

"You will forget about all this and be happy with your pay. If not, well…humans are easier to kill than monsters." The man nodded fearfully while Harry smiled.

It was a good thing he intimidated so easily.

Harry got to his feet, grabbing the elf's arm as he walked with her to the outskirts of the village. They had to leave as soon as possible. When the man he'd swayed regains his memory he was sure to come after them.

He didn't want to escalate this any further.

Surprisingly the elf stayed quiet as they walked. She made no sign of wanting to escape either, which he secretly hoped she would as he purposefully kept a light grip on her.

If she'd just run he'd make no move to stop her. He'd done what he felt was right and gotten her a second chance.

But no, even when they were finally out of the village and at his camp by the river she made no moves.

Sighing he made her turn around before cutting her binds with a knife.

"What?" He asked with a scowl as the elf stared at him.

"Nothing." She said, a slight lilt to her voice as she rubbed her hands.

"Go wherever you want." He said with a sitting down on the log with a sigh.

"But you bought me."

"Yes."

"Why?" He looked up at her question. She shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her sharp, pointed ears. Blonde.

"I bought you your freedom. That was all."

"Buying a woman entails only one thing." She said before getting to her feet. Before he could even say anything, in one fluid motion she'd taken her top off.

"Am I not fair enough for you?" The tone of her voice might've been just as apt for a discussion about the weather.

Harry gazed at her as she stared back haughtily, her arms folded. While she was modestly covering her breasts with her hand it left little to imagination.

He allowed his eyes to wander but was careful to keep his face as blank as he could.

She was beautiful. On that he could agree.

"More than enough." He said with a bow of his head. "But I didn't buy you for that. You're free to do whatever it is you wish."

She stared at him a bit longer before sliding her top back on and walking away towards the river without another word.

She did not return.

It was a long time before he could get to sleep that night. Partly because he was unsure whether the elf would come back and try to kill him in his sleep or perhaps even attack the village if she really was part of the Scoia'tael.

That and...his mind kept wandering to that man...

O'Dimm. The one who'd used his real name.

In the early hours of the morning he was awoken from his fitful sleep to the sound of footsteps. He discreetly palmed a dagger as he lay on his side, feigning sleep as the person drew closer.

He knew that scent…pine. It was the elf.

A few minutes passed and nothing happened.

He turned around, surprised to find her lying right next to him on the floor with her back turned. Her steady breathing signaling that she was asleep.

Unsure of what to do he turned back, sheathing his dagger.

He needed to find a way to deal with this headache in the morning.

* * *

 **AN: My absence? Overwatch, witcher dlcs, work and college.**

 **If you're still reading this, good on you mate. Thanks for sticking with the story!**


	7. Chapter 7

Posting this as a new chapter so that you all get renotified. I uploaded the wrong chapter 5 after i edited out mistakes. Sorry about the mixup, it should be alright now.

I'll leave this up so that the people who were initially confused will see that it has been updated.

This 'chapter' will be taken down within one day since...well, this is not really a chapter.

PS - We really need ways to send notifications to readers without having to publish a new chapter if we want something said.


	8. Chapter 8

**I know I said I'd take down the last chapter since it isn't a chapter, but someone notified me that if I do then the notifications for this chapter's update won't go out since...well...yeah.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 6**

* * *

"This is the place?"

"Yes." Harry said shortly, glancing at the elf who was eyeing him strangely.

"A place of faith." She continued with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not here for faith." He muttered before moving on.

A few moments later she'd caught up to him, matching his slow stride as the pair slowly navigated up the street.

Ellander was a new experience for him. While he could vaguely remember the temple of Melitele ago he had barely any memory of the actual city owing to the condition he'd arrived in last time.

The city was constricted. To the observer it seemed like there was barely enough space owing to the houses and shops being crammed together on either sides of the streets. The sheer volume of people made it worse still.

It felt like walking through a giant marketplace…only the entire city was one. Blacksmiths showing off their wares, butchers shouting about their meat, whores and beggars completely taking over the street corners…it was a little overwhelming.

Add in the general populace and the guards who seemed to all be keeping a wary eye on him and his companion…well, Vesemir hadn't been paranoid with his warnings.

He supposed they were being followed (not too discreetly as well) by guards mostly due to his companion of sorts. After all, this seemed to be a primarily human dominated city excluding the handful of dwarven merchants he caught sight of every now and then.

The further in they got to the heart of the city, especially with their growing proximity to the temple though had the guards becoming increasingly edgy though. Something that he knew his companion had noticed as well when she jerked her head to the side with a brief touch of his arm indicating the second group of guards who've joined the first group.

Nevertheless, they continued on. It was only when they'd finally reached their destination at the entrance to the temple that they were approached by one of the groups who'd been on their heels.

"Witcher." One of them spoke. The captain, judging by the insignia.

"Greetings." Harry said curtly with short nod.

"Might I ask what you're doing here?"

He simply nodded towards the temple gates before shrugging.

"May I ask why." The captain continued, seemingly undeterred.

"Personal reasons."

"And your companion?"

"I go where he goes." She said, folding her arms as she glared at the man.

"I wasn't aware that witchers travelled in pairs?"

"Do I _look_ like a witcher to you?"

"Watch your tongue elf." The captain snapped as the soldiers around him bristled. "You'd do well to remember your place here."

"Captain." Harry cut in, discreetly grabbing his companion's arm making her fall silent. "We haven't done anything wrong. My companion will be accompanying me for now. If we have a problem here you may call on Nenneke, she is the one who requested our presence."

The mention of Nenneke seemed to throw him off as he stared stupidly at them for a few moments. Harry could see a hint of the internal debate raging inside the man's head; To call on the priestess or not to?

"Very well." The man said, taking a step back as the soldiers relaxed. "Do what you came here to do. But know this, this city does not tolerate any form of trouble."

"I understand." Harry said politely to which the captain nodded. A brief glance at the pair later, the captain walked away, his entourage behind him.

Disregarding the look his companion was giving him he walked through the gates, approaching a young priestess who'd been watching them since their confrontation with the guards.

"Have you come seeking refuge master witcher?" She asked, her voice gentle as he bowed his head low in greeting.

His companion did not, choosing instead to stare haughtily at the exchange.

"For the night yes." He said. "But my reason for the visit is to seek an audience with sister Nenneke."

"I will pass along your request." She returned his smile. "Who do I announce you as?"

"Henryk of Ellander." Her eyebrows raised at his name but made no comment of it as she nodded before looking expectantly towards his companion.

"Enid an Gleanna." She muttered after a brief moment's hesitation.

"Very well. If you'll follow me…I'm sure you would like a place to rest from the wearies of your journey."

"We'd be grateful." He acquiesced, following into step as the priestess lead the way.

They walked in silence through the halls, a smile growing on his lips with each step as he observed the younger ones working diligently, taking notes as an elderly priestess was walking around, reciting passages from a book.

It reminded him of Hogwarts.

Yes, the two were not the same. His memories of his school, foggy as they may be, it was _not_ a temple.

But the stone pathways, the torches that lit the corridors, the paintings…it all just felt familiar.

It felt like home.

"Here you are." The priestess said graciously, showing them into a spacious room. "I will inform Nenneke of your arrival. If you require anything else, please don't hesitate to ask for me."

"I will…sister?" He trailed off, grinning sheepishly as she laughed at his expense.

"Reina." With that she was gone.

"Cozy." Enid remarked after a few moments of silence, sitting on the large bed and stretching out like a cat before smiling at him making him raise an eyebrow. This was probably the first time he'd seen her do that.

"Don't get used to it." He sighed, unstrapping his swords and laying them on the table next to the fireplace.

"So is there a reason we're here?" She asked as she walked up, laying her bow and arrows on the table beside his swords before proceeding to remove her light armor, leaving her dressed in a simple white shirt and pair of leggings.

He would've said something about her lack of tact, but after spending nearly a fortnight travelling with her he'd gotten used to her brazenness. Not to say that he shouldn't expect it. After all, the very first time he'd met her she'd offered herself to him.

Still, used as he was to it she still had some effect on him. Her dark golden hair, azure eyes and elvin features easily made her a sight to behold that was difficult to look away from.

"I owe the priestesses here my gratitude." He muttered, sinking into one of the chairs and closing his eyes. "Nenneke requested my presence as well. If she and the others here requires my aid, I will give it."

"Why?"

He stared at her for a few moments, unsure whether to answer truthfully or answer at all.

He did not trust her…not enough, and yet…

"They helped save my life."

* * *

Sister Reina had come back, saying that Nenneke would see them in the morning before offering them their room for the night. Seeing as he nor Enid were eager to attract the ire of the general populace, they'd accepted which was how they came to be, the elf fast asleep on the bed with him propped up against the wall in a meditative state.

The elf…he found himself gazing at her form.

She was a riddle in her own right.

Enid an Gleanna as he'd come to find out, was a stubborn woman.

He never wanted her as a companion for his travels, especially given his general lack of trust towards her and he'd made it clear.

She simply ignored him and tagged along. When questioned she simply stated she had nowhere else to go.

She wasn't of no use to him however, quite the contrary.

In addition to possessing impressive skills with a bow, she had one thing that he needed…the one thing he _wanted_.

Knowledge.

She knew this world.

She knew the past, she knew the reason behind the state of unrest, she knew of the political games being played in the shadows…. she knew everything about this world that he didn't.

That reason alone was enough to keep her.

That didn't change the fact that she is dangerous. If she really was a Scoia'tael as those men in the village had suspected, she was trouble. She did not confirm his suspicions, nor did she deny them when asked. She simply owed him her 'allegiance' for what he did for her. Or so she said.

But Scoia'tael or not, it didn't take much to realize that she was far more cunning than what she seemed to be.

He couldn't put a finger on it, but something still felt off about her. While he couldn't sense malicious intents from her, he still had the feeling that there was a reason behind her stubbornly tagging along. She always had an overabundance of questions towards him, questions that seemed quite keen on probing about his past.

One thing was certain, he needed to solve the puzzle that she was soon. Preferably before she solved him.

Closing his eyes, he willed himself to sleep.

Even if it weren't for the elf, sleep will never come easy to him anymore.

That haunting melody from that night…it never seemed to leave him alone.

* * *

"Geralt did a number on you I see." Nenneke remarked.

Harry tucked a few strands of his stark white hair away from his eyes self-consciously. The old priestess made a disapproving sound before looking towards his companion.

"Not just the physical attributes." She continued, nodding towards Enid who was silently watching their exchange. "You already seem to be walking in Geralt's footsteps."

"I…guess?" He muttered, tilting his head in confusion while the priestess gave a short shake of her head.

"All I ask is that you do not consort with my priestesses as well. I've had enough trouble with Geralt and that leech of a poet leading my students astray."

It took a few moments for him to realize what she was alluding to causing him to cough to hide his embarrassment.

He was keenly aware of Enid's gaze now as well.

"I assure you, I have no such intentions."

"Time will tell." She said, although there was amusement in her eyes as she gazed at him. "I am glad you seem to adjusting well Henryk. Triss mentioned she was worried about leaving you alone at the fortress when I asked, but I'm glad that her fears were unfounded."

"I wasn't in danger. Well, no more than I was in." He acquiesced at her raised eyebrow. "Vesemir taught me well." He added, a little defensively.

"He did, but our main concern was with the accursed trials they conduct." She sighed. "At least that's one of the better traits you take after Geralt…both of you seem to have retained more of that."

"I'm not sure I understand."

Nenneke sighed. "I'm sure you have gotten a glimpse of what it means to be employed in your craft. The people, while their lack of trust on your kind is unwarranted, it is not wrong in many ways either."

"The way they see you is nothing more than hiring a monster to save them from another. Witchers haven't helped change this view since the very trials performed on them strip them of their humanity in more ways than one."

"I am sure you know of the tragedy that took place in your school?" He nodded somberly, remembering Vesemir recounting the tale. "That was when tensions were at the highest. But it all stemmed from the lack of trust between the witchers and the people they served. Without your humanity, how can you convince a fellow man of your worth?"

"Geralt is one of the better known witchers out there, but he is famous because he goes against the common beliefs. There are tales recounting his ability to drink barrels of mead just as there are of him fighting monsters. Witchers are seen as emotionless beasts, he is anything but." She smiled at him. "And from what I've seen of you, you escaped the trials with the same capabilities."

"Put it to good use Henryk. Don't try to show the world what makes you a good witcher. Show them what makes you a good man."

* * *

Ciri sighed softly, leaning back against the hay as she struggled to get more comfortable.

She didn't dislike the way her thoughts were plagued by her new friend, but the way her thoughts constantly drifted to him without any explanation…it made her feel less like herself and more like…well, a _girl._

Not that it was a bad thing, at least the way Triss seemed to look at it. But then again this was the same person who seemed bent on making her ride side saddle and act more like a 'proper lady'.

On Henryk…or Harry as she'd come to find out, she had reason to be concerned about him.

When they'd been travelling together it hadn't been difficult to see that he was having difficulty adjusting.

Geralt had been the one who asked her to help Harry. Help him get used to things he'd said.

At the time she hadn't really understood what he'd meant. Harry was a fully trained Witcher by the time they'd set off - more accomplished in their ways than herself dare she admit, given her training had been sporadic at best, especially since everyone around her deemed that learning to control her powers was far more important that anything.

It was only after she spent some time with him outside of the fortress did she realize that no one was troubled by his ability to take care of himself.

It was more of a concern of how he would act…or more specifically, the course of action he would take outside of the fortress.

She couldn't say much, but from what she'd observed, he just seemed to have difficulty interacting with people. His markings of a witcher admittedly didn't make that task easy.

It's the reason she'd wanted him to simply come with her. After all, he was the same as her. He was a source. He too needed guidance.

That and she did want to spend more time with him. He was her first friend, a confidante in many ways.

Perhaps there was a reason Triss's teasing got to her so easily, she'd never admit it though.

"Dear me…I thought Triss was joking when she said you were moping over someone." An amused voice broke her out of her musings.

"Yen?" She asked in disbelief, eyeing the figure in the doorway.

"Haven't forgotten me already have you?" The raven haired woman asked, smiling as she moved to embrace her. "Not so little anymore I see…" She murmured fondly.

"I'm not-"

"So who is it?" She asked, her violet eyes sparkling with amusement before laughing at the growl she got in return.

"I wasn't expecting you back anytime soon." Ciri asked, deciding to avoid the question altogether.

Surprisingly, Yennefer seemed to humor her.

"Me neither…the lodge is in capable hands for now. At least until we get a word on Francesca, Philipa will act in her stead." She said softly. "Not the best decision we made but at least it lessens the burden on my part."

"I see…"

"But, you're not getting off that easily." She continued making Ciri groan. "I heard a lot of interesting things, something about a new arrival at the fortress."

"Why are you so interested?" Ciri asked, a bit defensively. This was a question she wanted an answer to. She knew he was a source just like her, but something told her there was a lot more to him than that. And honestly, it bothered her.

Yennefer seemed to notice the change in tone. "My…aren't you defensive." Her smile vanished, leaving a pensive expression on her face. "Your friend's arrival has not go unnoticed."

"The incident he and Geralt were involved in was brought up by the Lodge."

* * *

 **AN: Sorry bout the time it took, but better late than never yes?**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **If there are character names that seem familiar popping up, please do keep it to yourself yea? Let's keep the non witcher fanatics guessing. It's half the fun really. At least for me.**


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 7**

* * *

"Master Witcher. I did not believe you would come."

"And yet, here I am." Harry said shortly, folding his arms. The captain nodded before making a short gesture for him to sit.

"Here you are indeed." The two men stared at each other, sizing the other up before the captain made a short gesture with his hand.

A girl came over, setting down two tankards of beer on the table. "Please. Have a drink."

"What is this about?" Harry asked, his patience getting the best of him but nevertheless taking a sip. His thirst getting the better of him.

The captain didn't answer right away, choosing instead to take another swig before eyeing the girl who was now serving another table a few feet away from them.

"Your elf? How does she fare?"

Harry smiled thinly, leaning back on his seat. "My _companion_ …fares well."

"I see." The captain was silent for a few moments. "I must ask. What manner of a companionship do you share with her?"

"I fail to see how that is of any concern to you." Harry said mildly, taking a swig of his own. The captain laughed.

"It's simple curiosity. From one man to another. She _is_ a beauty."

"Yes. But I still don't see a reason for this conversation."

"There is none." The captain said with a shake of his head. "Guess we should skip the small talk eh? On to business then?"

"That would be best."

"We have a problem." The captain said pensively. "My men have been reporting stores of grain being snatched from our private stores along with convoys transporting supplies to nearby outposts disappearing overnight."

"Peasants giving you trouble?"

"Perhaps. That's what I thought too until the bodies started turning up." The captain looked him in the eye. "My men are well trained. There's no way simple peasants could've got to them, especially seeing how they piss themselves when confronted more than half the time."

"Shouldn't that just give them more of a reason to fight back?" Harry asked dryly.

"My point Witcher." The captain's voice lost all hint of warmth. "I know my men weren't killed by peasants and I need to know what did. Do you accept?"

"Your offer?"

"300 crowns."

"A bit too much for tracking something, especially if the prey is human."

"Oh…I forgot to mention." The man said with a grim smile. "Kill whatever is doing this when you find it."

"I'm not a murderer." Harry growled.

"Hypocrisy." The table rattled as the captain slammed his fist down. "Are you not a slayer _Witcher_? Do you not proudly carry those swords?"

"Yes." He said quietly. "To slay beasts that threaten people."

"You're trying to say you will not kill humans?"

" _People_. I won't kill people."

"I see." The captain said, the outburst forgotten momentarily as he eyed him down, as if seeing him for the first time. "Very well. The offer still stands, but do your 'morals' prevent you from finding out what's happening?"

"You know more about my morals now than most people do."

The captain nodded before finishing his drink. "Then the job is yours. What am I to call you?"

"Henryk."

"Wladimir." The captain said, indicating himself. "I daresay we will be in contact soon."

Harry simply nodded before finishing his own tankard. Before he could get up however, Wladimir's arm stopped him.

"I know you Witchers are neutral by code, but if you choose to pick a side…pick the right one."

* * *

 _Geralt_

 _I know of the boy you took to Kaer Morhen. I believe that should be a sufficient warning._

 _I don't know what your involvement is in this, but I cannot promise you the same thing I did for Ciri. However, I will try to offer my aid within reason._

 _You know how to find me._

The place where the name of the sender should be was blank, but Geralt didn't need it to know who it was. The damned scent was enough.

So…Yennefer knew.

That could only mean the Lodge knew as well…and by extension, the emperor and the rest of his ilk.

How? His mind immediately jumped to Triss…perhaps this was her way of garnering favor with the Lodge?

No. He trusted her. Besides, if it had been her then it wouldn't have taken this long for the Lodge to get wind of him.

He crumpled the letter in his hand.

He needed to find Henryk.

* * *

Enid was nowhere to be found when he got back to the temple.

It was normal. She would disappear off from time to time, sometimes for increasingly long periods of time but to his annoyance, would always come back.

He didn't know what was more irritating…the fact that she kept returning or the fact that she kept leaving without warning. He'd never breach the subject because of the awkward conversation that would be sure to follow. After all, approaching that kind of a subject would mean bringing some truth to their 'companionship' in lack of a better term.

Either way, it would be wise to use the time to get the contract over with. The captain had agreed to a rather hefty sum which would prove useful outside the city gates.

As for the contract itself…

The captain hadn't been jesting.

At the moment he was staring at a pile of bodies in varying states of decay in a cold, damp cellar.

"Is this how you treat your dead?" He asked with a quirk of an eyebrow, fighting down the sickening feeling in his stomach. It was difficult to appear unaffected by what he was seeing, but as a Witcher he needed to keep up appearances…no matter how inexperienced he was.

"No sir." The young soldier said quickly. "We're just keeping them here temporarily. We're going t-"

"Do you want ghouls to start nesting here?" Harry asked shortly, cutting him off.

"But-"

"Move them if you want to keep this town safe. The smell is not that noticeable yet, but a day or two more and you're going to have bigger problems."

"I-yes sir. I will see to it that they're moved."

"Why are you even throwing them in here in the first place instead of burying them?"

"Captain's orders sir...for evidence."

"Hm." Harry grunted, sparing the man a sidelong glance before crouching down next to a particularly bloodied one.

There was something strange about the wounds on all of them.

While some places ha the telltale signs of being viciously mauled by something with talons or claws, others looked a bit too precise.

"You say they were all attacked?" He asked softly, tracing one of them delicately. This was most definitely a stab wound.

"Yes."

"Did you know any of them?" The lack of an immediate answer made him look. The soldier's face had formed a grimace.

"Berguld. He…he's over there." He moved over to the body, turning it over. "We enlisted together."

"My condolences." Harry murmured. "Do you remember the last time you saw him?"

"Can't say." The man answered, a hint of shamefulness in his voice. "I didn't even know he'd returned until I found him like this."

"I see." Silence settled for a few moments.

It was then he heard something. The faintest noise.

His sword was drawn, hand instinctively gone for silver as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

"S-sir?" The man asked, panic in his voice.

Harry ignored him, focusing his attention instead on the far side of the room. He could've sworn he saw something move.

His medallion was vibrating against his skin.

That was when he heard it again, only this time he recognized it.

His medallion started humming. There was a faint voice in his ear. And it was one he'd never forget.

"Leave." He growled at the bewildered man.

"I-"

"Leave. Now." He sheathed his sword behind his back. "I'll take it from here."

The man looked like he was going to protest but then his eyes widened, gazing at something behind him.

He could see the terror reflected in them.

The man stumbled backwards while Harry stood perfectly still. The moment his back hit the door he'd turned around and bolted out the door like a stricken hare.

Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"I must've made an impression on you if you'd sheathe your weapons in my presence."

"If you wanted to kill me, I'd be dead by now." He replied, turning around to face the speaker.

She looked much the same as she did that fateful night.

"Perceptive little wolf." She smiled, her dark eyes boring into his. "But I'm disappointed, a deal was struck that night before we walked away."

"You didn't walk far."

There was a definite hunger in her eyes now.

"You knew?" She asked throatily, sauntering over to him, that same coy smile he remembered now present as her finger grazed his cheek.

"As I said..." His voice was hoarse. Whether it was from fear or something else he didn't know. "Your voice was not going to be easy to forget."

"I remember." She whispered, drawing closer to him. He could feel he cold breath on his neck before it was replaced by the feeling of her lips.

The fear was holding him in place. And yet…

He braced himself for the pain that would surely follow, a sense of powerlessness taking over as her hand wrapped strongly around his.

But none came.

She drew away, the hunger still evident in her eyes. The red hue on her pale face more pronounced. "I will sate my hunger in time Witcher, but not today."

He nodded before gesturing towards the bodies, wordlessly asking the question that was on his mind.

"Come now…" She sounded disappointed. "I did not do this." She sighed, tying her hair into a bun. "I don't need to kill so many to sustain myself for a few days. This is naught but a result of men turning on themselves."

He nodded, watching her mutely as she turned away.

His fear was slowly waning as he kept his eyes on her.

It was difficult not to. She simply looked so carefree.

"Why are you here?"

"Blood is not as readily available." She murmured before catching his eye. She smiled before biting her lip, leaning back against the wall with her arms folded, mimicking his posture. "There are soldiers gathering outside, quietly, a few ways up the road the human lead you through to bring you here. ."

He stared blankly at her.

"You are warning me?"

She didn't say anything, choosing to simply hold his gaze in silence.

It was strange really, he should be asking questions, but he felt much more inclined to simply accept her words.

And accept he did as he inclined his head in gratitude.

She stared at him a moment longer before she was gone in a wisp, a lingering whisper in his ears the only clue to her presence.

* * *

"Master Witcher, I trust you have made your observations?"

"I have." Harry muttered.

Two men were in front of him. Their swords sheathed.

His senses were picking up nervous breathing from the side indicating another, the hum of the wind against a blade signaling that their blade was at the ready.

There was also the unmistakable sound of a crossbow being readied somewhere towards the north.

"And?"

Harry smiled grimly. "An effective distraction."

He could see the dawning comprehension on his face, but it was too late.

The one who'd spoken was blasted backwards by _Aard_ , hitting the wall with a sickening crunch before crumpling lifelessly to the ground.

The crossbow in the distance released. He sidestepped the arrow which embedded itself with a thud on the wall behind him where his head had been a mere second ago before pulling it out and driving it straight up the second guard's arm who was rushing him with a sword making him drop it in pain.

He kicked at the man's foot, feeling a savage pleasure as he heard the crack of a bone being snapped before wrenching the shield he was holding out of his other hand and bashing his head with it, knocking him out instantly.

A sharp, blinding pain on his side made him growl as he rounded on the last one who'd cut him at his side. The man's eyes widened as he found the sharp side of the shield was jammed in his boot before being hit with a vicious backhand.

Panting slightly, he straightened up, gazing down at the unconscious forms around him. The 4th one…the one with the crossbow probably fled.

Before he could take another step however, he felt the world go black.

The last thing he remembered was someone catching him before he hit the floor.

* * *

Wladimir was worried.

It had been far too long since his soldiers had left.

If they'd failed at capturing the Witcher then he'd be in trouble. Perhaps it was time to send more men towards temple. If it came down to it, he could use Nenneke as a bargaining chip.

But what worried him more was the elf. The men he'd dispatched for her had yet to return.

Difficult as it may be to subdue a Witcher, how difficult is it to capture the elf?

"Uskal" He called, taking a seat behind the desk before pulling out a fresh parchment.

"Sir?" The young man who'd been standing silently at the corner saluted.

"Rally the others. You're going to take four more with you. Follow the route the others took. Find out what happened to them."

"Yes sir."

"And tell Andrzej he is to set off with a contingent of his own towards the temple of Melitele. If he has any reason to believe the Witcher and the elf are there, the priestesses should not deter him."

"Aye sir." He nodded, waving his hand dismissively as he began to write.

There was a loud thud that made him pause however.

"Uskal?" He called.

"Don't bother." A feminine voice answered. "Uskal is not fit to carry out orders at this moment."

"You!" He hissed.

It was the elf.

"Me." She smiled. "I didn't appreciate the men you sent after me and my companion captain."

"Andrzej! Guards!" He yelled. Something about her felt unnatural. Her azure eyes were glowing menacingly.

"No one will be coming." She started walking towards him. "It's just me and you."

"What have you done?!"

"You underestimated my companion…he made quick work of your guards." She murmured softly. "But more than him, you underestimated me."

His eyes widened.

Her eyes blazed with an azure fire and he felt like his insides were being ripped apart. He fell to the ground, writhing in pain as he clawed at his stomach, trying to get the horrible sensation to stop.

"You witch!" He screamed.

The pain suddenly stopped.

"Tell me who tipped you off." He felt a gloved hand on his face. "Tell me!" She said dangerously.

The pain returned with a vengeance.

This was worse…this was much worse. It was everywhere, it was in his head, his chest…

Death. He wanted death.

"You won't die. Not until I decide."

"What….do you…want…" He gasped.

The pain reduced, but it wasn't stopping.

"Who tipped you."

"I-don't know. We…had orders…to kill…"

"Why."

"We…know…Emhyr. You're working for-him."

"And Henryk? You were ordered to kill him too?"

He remained silent.

"I see."

The pain stopped.

She was gone.

He blinked. He tried to get himself standing but couldn't. He was much too weak.

Warm…everything was just so warm.

That night, the skies of Ellander was lit by an orange glow.

* * *

 **AN: I'm back I guess?**

 **Where was I? Well...I was pretty much busting my ass trying to put together a portfolio to gain entrance to a school I've had my eye on for some time over the past 4 months or so. It demanded all of my attention.**

 **Now though, I've got jack shit to do. Writing helps me fight off the nerves as I wait for a response from the school so I daresay you might be seeing more updates from me in the near future. Plus I think I've got my muse interested again after I saw Fantastic beasts and where to find them last week...good movie actually! At least for people like us I guess.**

 **Or you may not, I might just end up going on a drinking binge until Christmas is over. Plus I finally got my copy of FFXV as well so that's there.**

 **Merry Christmas in advance in case I don't update any stories before then!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 8**

* * *

Harry noted two things when he jolted awake.

One, he was back in the temple quarters.

Two, he was on a bed.

The last time he'd slept in one was when he'd still been human.

"Hm…about time you woke up."

He grunted noncommittally, pushing himself to a sitting position.

It was then he noticed he was dressed in a simple pair of breeches. His swords along with his shirt and armor were stacked up in a neat pile on the table.

"How long have I been out?" He asked, getting to his feet before glancing at his companion. She was curled up in a chair off to the side, a book on her lap although it seemed to be forgotten as she was staring unabashedly at him.

She too lacked her regular clothing.

"Not long."

"Oh." He was reaching for his shirt when he paused, memories of the night before surfacing. He gingerly touched the spot where he could remember getting hit.

It was clean. There was some kind of salve applied there as well.

"I tended to it." This made him turn around, gazing at her in bemusement. He was not expecting that.

His surprise increased further when he noticed the way she avoided his eyes, picking at the pages of her book. "I hope you don't mind." She added.

"No I…I would've healed either way." He said quickly before shaking his head. What possessed him to say that?

"Thank you." He added, making her smile briefly. "I guess you found me then?" He asked quickly, trying to cover his embarrassment.

"Yes. I saw you fighting those men before one of them tried to run away. I got him but by the time I turned around you were already on the floor." She paused. "What happened? Way you were handling those three I doubt any of them could've gotten to you."

"No. I'd already taken care of them." He muttered. "I don't…I can't remember what happened after that. I would've known if someone had come up behind me as well…"

"You didn't get hit on your head did you?" She asked, getting to her feet and moving towards him.

"No I…what are you doing?" He asked, backing away almost reflexively as her hand came up to his face.

"Calm down." She said patiently. "Let me have a look…" She was already leaning up on her toes, brushing aside his hair with one hand while the other was now grasped firmly on his arm, holding him in place.

He was firmly aware of their proximity as she leaned into him. Usually he had a tighter grip on himself, but he wrote it off as a side effect of sleeping after so long.

Besides, it was a pleasant sensation, having someone so close to him. Ever since he'd started on the path as a Witcher, well…certain things became a luxury.

An unbidden smirk crept up on his face as he closed his eyes at the feeling of the hand carding through his hair. She was taking her time it seemed, making no effort to move from him.

Was it strange that he was only able to experience something like this _after_ everything that happened? And in a world that was not his own?

He wasn't allowed to dwell on it for long however as the sound of the door creaking open directed their attention towards it.

"Oh! My apologies." A startled voice said hurriedly.

The door was slammed shut.

"Well…" Enid commented as she gingerly removed him from her grasp, stepping away from him. "I guess this will confirm their suspicions…even if it was not at all what seemed."

"Nenneke will be so pleased." He said dryly making her laugh before they both turned away.

Feeling slightly better he moved to don his shirt and the rest of his garb while she did the same behind him.

"There was something else." He heard her say. "The soldier's encampment…it burned down last night."

"What?!" He rounded on her.

"It was after I found you. I was bringing you back here when I saw the fire."

"How?! Is anyone-?"

"Dead." She said without a hint of emotion. "Most of them at least."

"Do you know how it happened?"

"Not sure. I-" She hesitated. "Do you know why you were attacked?"

"No." He growled, dropping to one of the seats with his hands clasped. "I don't suppose you do?"

"I was attacked as well." She said. "I feel that might be reason enough."

"You're not hurt are you?" He asked, looking up at her.

"No. I only had to deal with 2 of them…I suppose they took me for an easy target." She paused. "I want to apologize."

"For what?"

"For my hand in this." She said quietly. "I fear we were targeted because of my affiliation. It was a mistake for me to come here…to this city-with you. I didn't mean to cause you unnecessary trouble."

"Why would you think they were after you?"

"I'm an elf." She said bitterly. "And yes, I fought for my people before. I fear what I've done is catching up to me."

She fell silent after that, but Harry couldn't shift his gaze from her.

For the first time since he'd met her, he felt like he'd finally learnt something about her. He knew that what she'd just said was probably the most honest thing he'd heard from her since they'd met.

"Then we'll leave."

"What?" Her eyes met his, surprise evident in them.

"We'll leave. It's about time we set off either way." He closed his eyes. "I fear I've caused enough trouble for the priestesses as well."

Nothing was said between them for a few moments.

"The men who attacked you, did they die in the fire as well?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"They died before that."

He frowned slightly but didn't make any further comment. He didn't need to voice what he was thinking. From the way she was looking at him, she'd already guessed what he wasn't voicing.

"Why did you not raise your sword against them?" She asked.

He turned away from her, choosing not to answer her question. He could feel her gaze on him as he silently gathered his effects.

She followed suit shortly after as well. Nothing more was said as they dressed.

Before he could head outside though, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Henryk…don't forget that you and I are not so different to them."

With that she strode forward, leaving him staring blankly in her wake.

* * *

"Should I ask if you had a hand in what has happened?" Nenneke asked, gesturing towards the window. The column of smoke still hadn't died down.

"No." Harry said shortly.

The priestess sighed before pouring herself some water.

"I'm not surprised." She said, handing the water to him. After a moment's hesitation he took it. Her gaze was fixed on him as he drank it.

"I'd advise you to make haste and depart." She said softly.

He simply nodded.

"Where will you go?"

"I don't know." He muttered. "Onward."

"Are you not bound for Novigrad?"

"In due time."

She nodded, looking towards the entrance.

Enid was there, leaning against the wall with her back turned.

"Go. You have my blessing…do not forget what I've said."

He bowed his head in acknowledgement before getting up.

"And Henryk?" She got to her feet as well. He looked at her questioningly. "Do not return."

Enid was waiting by the door as he strode towards it, but he ignored her as he strode past, leaving just her and the priestess inside.

"That was unnecessary." She said after a few moments.

"Perhaps." The priestess uttered in a faraway voice before turning to look at her. "But my mistrust is not placed on him."

Enid smiled coldly before slamming the door shut behind her.

* * *

"Where did you get those?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, standing up straight as his companion approached the city gates.

"Dear Witcher…" She said in an overly exaggerated tone, glancing behind her before meeting his gaze with an impish smile. "Whatever do you mean?!"

Harry sighed audibly.

Behind her were two horses; a mare and a stallion.

"Fine horses you've got there." He muttered, inspecting both of them. The mare he noticed, had a white stripe on its face that was a stark contrast to its black coat.

They looked far too well bred to be something she'd nicked off of the local stables.

"Indeed."

"I take it you've borrowed them."

"Well…" She stroked the white horse lovingly. "I 'relieved' them of active duty seeing as their owners are not going to be around much anymore." She glanced at him. "The mare seems rather taken with you as well…would've been a shame to not bring her to you."

A ghost of a smile slid across his face as the mare nuzzled into his hand expectantly.

"So." Enid probed.

"Thanks." He replied, favoring her a quick smile. She seemed slightly taken aback by his response, but nevertheless, recovered quickly.

"Nay Vaat'ghern, it is my token of gratitude."

* * *

Geralt's eyes snapped open, immediately picking up the hooded figure standing in front of the door.

"You're late."

"No. You're early." She sounded amused. "Did you spend the night here?"

"A bed every now and then never hurt anyone." He replied before getting to his feet. "It's good to see you Yen."

He was rewarded with a gorgeous smile as the dark haired sorceress moved to embrace him. The flame that had been lying dormant in him sparking to life at the contact.

"The feeling's mutual." Yennefer said quietly, lingering in his embrace. "Ciri sends her regards."

"She giving you trouble?" He asked as she drew away.

"No more than she always did." She smiled faintly. "I don't have much time, so I'd rather get to the matter at hand Geralt…if you don't mind."

He nodded before gesturing towards the bed while he propped himself down on the chair.

"What have you learned?"

Yennefer didn't answer for a few moments, a troubled expression marring her features.

"Before I answer that, I need you to tell me how you found him. And where." Her violet eyes narrowed as they met his. "Leave nothing out."

"Not much to say." He began, watching the last few dying embers of the fire. "Found him during a contract…was supposed to be lifting a curse off of a Striga. Found him in the crypt with it. He was almost dead but defended himself with magic. Afterwards I took him to Kaer Morhen...the trial seemed the only way to save him given the wounds he'd sustained. After that, well…you probably know the rest."

"You left something out."

He looked at her questioningly.

"Geralt. You're no fool, nor are you one to get yourself involved in things that don't concern you. Why did you not leave him there to die? The knowledge that he's a source should've only deterred you more."

He sighed audibly, clasping his hands together.

"I've seen him before. In dreams…well, more like nightmares."

"Visions?" She asked curiously. "Akin to what you had with Ciri?"

"No…I don't know. I recognized him the moment I set my eyes on him."

"You mentioned nightmares...what exactly did you see?" She asked, eyeing him closely.

"A storm…I remember a storm. The seas were raging, lightning in the skies…" He murmured, trying to recall more details. "The floor turning to fire…" He smiled humorlessly. "You know what I'm getting at."

"Ragh nar Roog?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes."

She gave out a long, exasperated sigh. "The one you found? Where does he come in?"

"It's not just him I saw." He muttered. "Ciri, you, me...I keep remembering flashes of it. One thing I know for certain is that we were there. All of us."

"Then what?"

"I can't remember much else."

"I see." She murmured in a distant voice. "Geralt, is it possible what you saw was an omen?"

"What do you mean?"

"You described Ragh nar Roog…but is it truly in the literal sense?" She asked. "Perhaps it's a warning…about the boy."

"Not going to rule out the possibility. But…"

"But you trust him." She finished for him. He looked up, meeting her piercing gaze. "Why?"

"I don't know." He said truthfully. "Even now I ask myself why I took him with me…why I wanted to save his life. Why I took it as far as to turn him to a Witcher when I had no reason to."

"You are many things Geralt, but you are not without compassion." She said softly. "I don't think you have to explain your actions." She smiled. "Besides, our Cirilla seems to care for him. Between you and her, I don't think I have any reason to doubt the trust you've placed in him."

He chuckled to himself, remembering watching the pair together at Kaer Morhen. Even Ciri had played a part in training Henryk. The memory of the girl yelling about Henryk's footwork during one such session had been a cause of great amusement for all of them.

Except Henryk. Lambert made sure he never forgot it.

"I've told you all I know. Now tell me what you've learned. How did you learn of him?"

" _I_ never knew." She added, her voice growing cold. "How the Lodge found out about him I can't say. I doubt I was supposed to know in the end either, it was by chance I overheard a conversation that lead me to Triss."

"By chance or…?" She gave him a look making him fall silent.

"Please. Let's not mention the fact that you seem to trust Triss so much so that you-"

"She was the only one I could get a hold of. In case you've forgotten, I cannot contact you or find you on a whim. I have to wait to be _graced_ by your presenece." He added, a bit of venom seeping into his voice.

"There will be a different time for this conversation." She said stiffly. "Right now there's only one thing that you need to know."

He shook his head but remained silent.

"It's Francesca. How she found out I can't say, but my hands are tied for this one. I cannot oppose her even if I tried…she's far too powerful and has a lot more influence than I do. That's why I need you to find him before she does."

"And you?" He asked. "You're not going to be acting in the Lodge's best interests?"

"I do not think Francesca is acting out of the Lodge's best interests either." Yennefer sighed. "It's not that I don't trust her Geralt…but you know who she is."

Geralt grimaced, a wolf howling in the distance as a memory surfaced.

 _Behind the couple, walked an attractive woman with very long, dark golden hair, and a grey-green dress decorated with lace, which rustled as she moved._

 _"Francesca Findabair, also called Enid an Gleanna, the Daisy of the Valleys. Don't goggle, Witcher. She is widely considered to be the most beautiful woman in the world."_

" _Is she a member of the chapter?" He whispered in astonishment. "She looks very young. Is it also thanks to magical elixirs?"_

" _Not in her case. Francesca is a pure blooded elf." (Excerpt from Time of Contempt, Andrzej Sapkowski)_

* * *

Harry glanced to his side to find Enid pointing forward.

There, in the distance atop the hillside was a village.

"We can stop there for the night."

It wasn't a suggestion. The tone of her voice made it clear that she fully intended to stop for the night no matter what he chose to do.

Any other time he would've just waved her off and gone on, but the weariness he could see on her was reflected on him. They'd been on the road for the past three days with barely any stops.

It was mainly due to their mutual desire to put a noticeable distance between them and Ellander. They had to avoid the main roads as well after the first night owing to an increasing number of soldiers and checkpoints, it was only after they'd left a significant distance between them and the city that things seemed to have calmed down.

He nodded tiredly in response, returning to his silent stupor that he'd carried on for a vast majority of the journey. One of the perks about finally having mounts of their own was that it meant sleeping while journeying was a possibility. For him it mostly meant he could lapse to his meditative state in peace. As an added bonus, Enid fell prey to the weariness of their journey much faster which meant she surrendered to sleep much quicker as well.

While sleep was something that wasn't as necessary now due to his mutations, it didn't mean it wasn't a luxury he'd like to indulge in every now and then. So Enid's suggestion did carry some merit.

The thought of a warm fire and food after so long helped strengthen the argument.

"Henryk." She said again making him look wearily at her.

This was something rather new. Her using his name.

It felt strange not having her address him the way the general populace usually did anymore. It created an odd sense of familiarity between them.

It wasn't uncomfortable. But there was still some tension between them.

"I have met Witchers before you." She began. "I was alive when your kind were as plentiful as there were soldiers…and yet, never did I meet one who is quite like you."

"What do you mean?"

"You are not emotionless. You hide it well, but I have seen that you are more human in more aspects than not."

"An astute observation." He said dryly.

Her lips quirked upwards briefly. "You are strange. You've intrigued me a lot more than I care to admit."

"The feeling's mutual."

"I'm sure it is." She said humorously. "But…It is the reason I wished to honor the debt I owed you. I know I never had to be here…and I know you question why." She paused. "This is my answer."

He gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement and silence fell for a few moments as they slowly trotted down the rough path

"You don't owe me anything anymore." He murmured.

"I don't?" She asked, her eyes meeting his for a few moments. He held her gaze for a few moments before looking away.

"When I set off on the path, I didn't think it'd be anything more than a solitary journey." Allowing a rare bit of vulnerability to seep into his voice he added; "I am grateful for your companionship."

She seemed to pull back into herself, her face hidden behind her cloak.

"It is of no consequence." Her voice was softer than he was used to hearing. "I suppose that means I have no more reason to be here."

"This was always your choice." He said after a few moments. "I did not help you back then for you to be indebted to me."

"I know." She suddenly peeled back the hood of her cloak, allowing her hair to cascade past her shoulders. The tips of her ears were rather red, a warm contrast to her pale complexion.

He was well aware of her elven heritage; her beauty was unmatched. Even among the fair elven maidens he'd seen.

It had never been something he'd paid heed to before, but now, with her piercing blue eyes fixed on his, he was made all too aware of it.

"I would like to continue to travel with you." She smiled. "At least until the inevitable parting of ways."

He allowed her a brief smile before the two continued onwards in amicable silence.

* * *

 **AN: Well shit. Not only did I miss Christmas, but New Year as well.**

 **But I'm sure you guys are used to me being flaky by now so it's nothing new right? Moving on. (Long note coming up.)**

 **That cat's out the bag, more and more of you are catching onto who Enid an Gleanna is. Was hoping to keep it a secret from the non Witcher fanatics but it was stupid of me…it's people who're into that world that'd read this rather niche crossover.**

 **There's a legitimate reason why I took some time to publish this new chapter this time actually. I still haven't given up on trying to follow a similar style to how Andrzej Sapkowski wrote and had a draft that was more akin to that. But I decided to scrap it and start over for two reasons.**

 **It probably wouldn't work here as a crossover since I've literally dragged in a character who's completely out of touch with this world. I can't just jump all over the place and tell different tales about the many exploits of a character who isn't fully established as a character or even in the world he's in yet.**

 **This is actually something a reviewer said ages ago when I talked about something similar in the earlier chapters. If he wanted to read Sapkowski's writing style, he'd stick to them rather than read my pathetic recreation of it. If he's reading my story, it's because of the way I write it. Well that and I think I'm one of a very small handful of people writing a crossover involving Witcher and Harry Potter.**

 **It stuck with me, what he said. So…yeah. Oh, and if you think the reviewer was a bit dickish, he wasn't. I remember him being really nice about it. I just can't remember the review word for word so I filled in the gaps with my own pessimistic take on things. Yay me.**

 **That's all I wanted to say…Oh, and I finished Final Fantasy XV and laughed myself silly at the ending. (Spoiler alert for those who haven't seen the full ending, do not read what's coming).**

 **So you know how we can take a snapshot of whatever we want before Noctis goes in for the final battle? Yeah, I chose a picture of Aranea Highwind. Because why not? She's the perfect waifu. Got all the right characteristics for me to perv on. Oh, and Gentiana as well.**

 **I digress, but you can probably guess what had me in stitches. That ending with Noctis and Lunafreya looking at the picture of Aranea together was just…**

 **Other than that, the game was a ton of wasted potential. I'm more disappointed because I'm seeing the possibilities of just how great it could've been.**

 **And lastly, I got accepted into the school I was hoping for. Classes start this week. It's gonna ruin me (it's an art school that's notorious for overworking their students). This story will get updated sometime. Hopefully sooner than later.**

 **Next chapter will be a traditional Witcher Contract. Been itching to write one of those.**


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